In This Life
by Laeirinn
Summary: In the moment of his death, Kamijou Hiroki's his last and only thought was his beloved Nowaki. Komori Hiroko's first thought was of her beloved Nowaki. Hiroko faces a questionable choice follow where her memories might take her or to forget to focus on the life she had been with now. Could love indeed prove to be stronger than death and does the man she loves exist?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** **In This Life**

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Warning: Please be aware this story is based on a character death and that character being reborn as a different individual.**

 **This means the relationship at the heart of this story will be Hiroki x Nowaki, but Hiroki's soul will be reborn in an original character.**

 **This story will have Nowaki x OC relationship going forward.**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

 **Part 1: If Tomorrow Never Comes (Ronan Keating)**

May you live a thousand years, and I, a thousand less one day;

So that I might never know the world without you.

~ Hungarian Proverb ~

Kamijou Hiroki had a secret fetish.

He loved to watch his lover sleep. He felt his cheeks flush with the familiar warmth of a blush. Feeling the mixture of longing, guilt, and desire, as he stole this moment to indulge his fetish. His dark-haired lover slumbered peacefully, unaware of Hiroki's gaze. Dark brown eyes lovingly studied the half-naked body beneath the covers, appreciating every detail the fine muscular form and beautiful, kind face his younger lover possessed.

The only imperfections to this god-like form were the dark rings of exhaustion circling under his lover's closed eyes. Nowaki had been working the night shift at the hospital for the last week; he collapsed into bed minutes before Hiroki had to get up to prepare for the day ahead. At these times, they had barely had a chance to speak or let alone spent time together.

Save for the brief morning embrace that his lover insisted on having before resigning himself to the world of dreams. Where, no doubt, he was dreaming of romantic nonsense, Hiroki thought to himself. A small smile twitched at his lips, inwardly not that he would ever admit it aloud, Hiroki cherished that sentimental nonsense. The romantic nonsense was a healing, reassuring balm that reached deep into his bruised heart. He knew as long as his young lover continued to spurt out lovey-dovey stereotypes, Nowaki was devoted to him.

Picking up his satchel from the bedroom floor, Hiroki softly unclipped the front and peered inside for a moment, before reaching in to remove the wrapped package. He half-smiled as he quietly placed the gift on the bedside table. A note, carefully folded in half, accompanied the box, bearing an important message for his lover.

Today was the day: Kusama Nowaki's life was going to change.

Hiroki would freely admit he had kept this relationship a secret for far too long. He paused for a moment glancing at the present. A few people knew in their social circle. He had failed to inform the most important people in his life though. His family. Nowaki had been begging for the last year to be introduced formally to the Kamijou clan. The truth was Hiroki had been terrified to do it. It was only the recent development with his father that had spurred him into making a change to the status quo. His father, Kamijou Hiroaki, the current head of the Kamijou family had been seriously ill for some months. Hiroki knew soon there would be questions asked about the further omiai sessions. He did not want to put Nowaki through that again.

This Valentine's Day, there would more than just chocolate surprises waiting.

This valentine day's his present for his lover would be an introduction to his parents.

Potentially, this gift could go disastrously wrong, but Hiroko knew this was the only thing Nowaki wanted. The meticulous planning had gone into this weekend. There had been favours pulled in to enable him to pull off this secret weekend.

He had actively prayed at a temple on the walk home for a month that all would go to plan.

Hiroki wanted nothing more than his family to accept Nowaki.

He could only hope his family would prove to be as accepting as he believed.

Bending down, Hiroki brushed a few tousled locks of hair out of his lover's face. He was so immensely proud of his lover, Nowaki having achieved so much in the last eight years. Though it had not been the most comfortable road, Hiroki would not change a step of their journey; there had been highs and plenty of lows. Frankly that America fiasco still made him angry. But after eight years, he was coming to realise that finding even fleeting happiness in this world was a challenge. He might not have demonstrated the depths of his feelings on a regular basis due to his pride, but Nowkai knew when gestures came how special they were. Nowaki knew how much he was cherished and loved despite the constant abuse he tolerated from his Hiro-san, who was not the most natural person to love.

Straightening, he stared at his lover once more before leaving for work. The ruffled, sleeping form of his lover was almost too tempting to leave. Hiroki knew that later there would be plenty of time to enjoy reacquainting himself with his lover. He smiled to himself when excited his lover could be quite inventive, something to look forward to after the surprise tonight. Thank god, he had booked a hotel for his parents.

Their Valentine's Day reunion tonight had great promises of pleasure.

Nowaki was always extremely passionate surprised.

If only he had known what lay ahead, he would have made sure to kiss his lover goodbye. He would have whispered to Nowaki those most important words that he would later regret not having said enough.

He would never have gone to work if he had known another tomorrow for them would never come.

At a quarter to six, Hiroki locked up his classroom, irritated at the number of hormones haunting the halls of the university. It has been an incredibly long, long day. Every class he taught had been full of lovey-dovey idiot students, chocolates and love notes circling the rooms. The lack of intelligent answers in his class had tested his patience beyond its limits. Chalk bouncing off heads had failed to deter the daydreamers from their romantic notions. Worse still, the 'love-bug' had enraptured his colleagues, too!

Giggles coming from under the door from the office he shared with Miyagi told him to keep walking. Trying to go into the office was pointless, the reason being that Miyagi was probably in the middle of being molested by his younger lover, Shinobu. Plus, there was a whole can of worms of the kid being the dean's son. No, it was just best he stay out of it. Miyagi would be there tomorrow to lecture. Hiroki hesitated for a moment, as a message's arrival jiggled in his pocket. Fishing out his phone, he flipped open the cover greeted by two critical messages; one confirmation message that all the pieces of his plan were in place and one of excitement from his lover.

A passing female student received the shock of her life as the 'Demon' looked delirious happy for a moment as he read Nowaki's message. The creepy look caused her to stumble and drop her books. A flood of apologies escaped the student as she rushed off down the corridor after hastily gathering her stuff. Hiroki looked up in time to hear incomprehensible mumbles and flash of yellow vanish down the corridor. With a shake of his head, he returned to his phone to read his other message. Satisfied by the message's contents, he swung his bag over his shoulder and continued on his way with a spring in his step.

He had an important date.

What Kamijou Hiroki did not know was that fate had an important date for him to keep.

As he strolled down the street in a hurry to meet his lover, a countdown clock had started to accelerate. As he reached the front gate of the University, the wheels of fate were in full motion. When the spit spot tell-tale signs of rain fell from the sky, Hiroki was on for a head-on collision when he chose not to go back for his umbrella.

Pulling up his coat collar, he cursed himself for a moment. Glancing at his watch, he opted to risk the weather than going back for it. Time was against him. There were only forty minutes before he was due to meet with Nowaki at the rendezvous point he had mentioned in his note. He would have to rush to arrive at the train station with their tickets to meet his lover before they traveled as he planned to his hometown.

Distracted by his eagerness to see his lover, Hiroki failed to grasp several chances to avert the fate that galloped towards him. He moved on autopilot as his thoughts toward to his lover. Words weren't necessary to show how much he missed Nowaki during the long hours his lover worked nights. Their brief embraces and desperate kisses conveyed the ache they both felt. Hiroki found himself walking faster lost in thought of Nowaki.

As the skies opened in earnest, Hiroki bolted through the park, dashing through the torrents of rain. Irked at the weather, he missed the rumbling that echoed across the sky. Emerging close to the shopping center, he weaved in between the shoppers. Happy couples are wandering under umbrellas, sharing romantic evenings together.

He stopped at the traffic lights. Standing eagerly to wait for them to change. A woman drew up beside him, holding a small gift bag. A flash of lime green caught the corner of Hiroki's eye. The lady holding the brightly coloured bag smiled at him as he quirked an eyebrow at the extreme patterns on the bag. She groaned briefly, only to blush as people turned to look at her due to a strange noise. She nervously rubbed her slightly rounded stomach with a smile.

Her phone rang, breaking their shared gaze.

She excitedly answered greeting her mother.

Family.

The thought stuck in his mind.

He wondered how Nowaki would react.

Far off in the distance, the din of Sirens screaming lost in the falling rain.

Lost in thought, he began to cross the road as the lights changed signaling go to the pedestrian traffic. Half aware of the world's goings-on around Hiroki, he missed the confused features of the crowd as the echoing din approached as he stepped into the road. The pregnant woman followed after him thinking it was safe to cross the street. Her mother's chattering was distracting her from seeing the hesitation from other pedestrians that had heard the wailing warning of the approaching emergency vehicles.

In that moment, unseen to the rest of world, two strands of fate converged…

It was too late when people shouted out a warning in alarm.

The carillon convoy of vehicles raced towards them blinded by the downpour.

The reflection of flashing lights in the shop windows caught his attention.

The squeals of tires started Hiroki from his thoughts.

He glanced in the direction of the anarchy that approached.

The blood in his veins froze as the speeding car skidded on the wet road surface…

Behind him, a caterwauling collection of screams and gasp arose from the crowd.

Spinning on his heel, Hiroki reacted on impulse…

…. In a blur of action, two figures disappeared from view...

…A dull thud of impact tolled across the night…

… Caterwauling collection of screams and screeches rang out…

… The smashing of glass and crunching of metal rang out...

In a skip of a heartbeat, several destinies changed forever.

Pain shot through every fiber of his being as he hit the ground.

Every ounce of breath as knocked from his lungs.

Everything was dark and still for a moment.

His conscious was woozy when he realised he might have blacked out for a moment.

Lying in the gathering surface weather on the tarmac of the road, he took a quick mental stock of the pain. Opening his eyes, he noticed one of his legs felt numb. Hiroki attempted to push himself up only to feel a wave of agony tear through him. His arm collapsed under him with a sickening crunch. Fresh waves of torturous pain coursed through him causing him to grit his teeth together to stop himself from crying out. Testing his other arm, he managed to push up on his other uninjured elbow to try to survey the damage. He looked up to see the pregnant woman breathing rapidly in front of him. He was about to ask her if she was hurt when he noticed her face.

A look of stark horror written on her face.

Blinking, he wondered what was wrong.

Words froze on his lips, as he understood why.

The rippling puddle before him was red… red with blood.

He was about to look down at his leg, but he forced himself to look away.

He needed to remain calm.

Adrenalin would only increase his heart rate and pump blood faster.

The rain started coming down harder, he noticed. Suddenly his lips felt dry despite the rain; brushing his tongue over his dry lips, he gathered himself to speak. Only to grunt, as a spasm of pain wracked through his chest. He could only draw short pants of breath. His chest felt tight, and each breath came with horrifying pain. In the disquietude of his senses reeling from the crucifying agony of his injuries and lacerations, Hiroki felt tremors of terror seize his heart.

Hiroki looked up in fear to the pregnant woman who crawled towards him.

She spoke him, but her words became lost in the commotion.

Several people rushed forward from the crowd at the side of the road.

The pregnant woman reached him and began shrugging off her coat. She draped the damp fabric around his shoulders as his body shook with the effort of fighting the pain off and staying upright. A shadowy group figures gathered close to him. Distorted sounds fell as a vague vaporous voiced as he struggled with consciousness. A police officer appeared at his side as he slumped forward.

The world was a blurred shadow as he sank down. Panic was edging into his heart with the spreading numbness he could feel encroaching on his body. What was wrong with him? He had to be going into shock, a small logical part of his brain decided. Small female hands caught his head before it hit the road's surface. A voice of authority barked orders overhead. Cautious hands repositioned his body gently.

He convulsed in the throes of the pain of the movement.

He suddenly felt exhausted.

All he wanted to do was sleep.

He wanted to fall asleep holding his Nowaki.

Nowaki would take all the pain away.

"Please hold on," a soft feminine voice urged.

A sweet scent of tangy fruit blossoms mixed with rich chocolate assailed his senses jerking him back to the world. Warmth encompassed his chilled form, silver foil blankets and coats cloaked him from the rain. Blurry colours of the flashing lights stretched over him like dancing waves. The pain became a fuzzy tingle like the sensation of pins and needles in his body. He felt lightheaded, edged with numbness and dizzy as if inebriated from drinking strong alcohol. The cold seeping through his skin from lying on the wet tarmac became a distant annoyance. A calmness settled in his mind, as the noisy world surrounding him drifted away.

"Come on buddy, hold on in there."

For the second time, a voice pulled his awareness back.

Blinking furiously, he tried to focus on the woman's face above him.

"Keep him talking," he heard the police officer tell her.

The woman nodded back shifting closer to him.

She stroked her fingers through his hair, smiling gently down at him. Tears are clinging to thick, long eyelashes. Staring up into her mahogany eyes, he saw the reflection of the terror truth as her eyes were unable to lie.

Tears leaked from the side of his own eyes at the realisation that hit him.

"You saved our lives," she croaked as tears fell thick and fast. "You're a hero."

"Or… an… idiot." He gasped.

His body convulsed again suddenly; he was beyond feeling the pain.

"Easy," the woman said, stroking his hair again. "My name is Midori Keiko. What's my hero's name?"

"Kami-jou Hir-oki." He gasped.

"A hero by name and deed."

Hero…

Hiro…

Hiro-san… he thought…

Nowaki! The image of his lover caused his heart to twinge. He cried out his heart's pain as the happy vision of his dark-haired lover swam past his mind's eye. Lifting a blood-caked hand, Hiroki grasped the fingers stroking his hair. The grasp was weak, but he managed to attract the attention of the lady above him.

"Will… you do something… for me?"

Leaning close to hear his hoarse gasps, she watched his brown eyes, sorrowful and pained, fixed upon her chocolate orbs.

"Tell…tell him… I love…"

As she bent down, Midori Keiko sobbed as she listened to the last words that Kamijou Hiroki would ever utter in this lifetime. She knew as his eyes turned glassy, his eyes saw someone else in her place.

He softly whispered three words. 'Wait… for…me…"

When Kamijou Hiroki died, his last and only thought was Nowaki…

(To Be Continue...)


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** **In This Life**

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Warning: Please be aware this story is based on a character death and that character being reborn as a different individual.**

 **This means the relationship at the heart of this story will be Hiroki x Nowaki, but Hiroki's soul will be reborn in an original character.**

 **This story will have Nowaki x OC relationship going forward.**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify:

 **Spotify Playlist:** Search for Fanfiction - In This Life

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays.**

 **A Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** is available on my other account under the username Darkestforever; however I do have plans to revisit this in the future.

* * *

 **Part 2: Because You Live (Jesse McCartney)**

What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined…

To strengthen each other…

To be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.

~George Eliot~

Most children have imaginary friends. In fact, two-thirds of children by the age of seven will have created one. They take all shapes and sizes. They can be fun-loving, mischievous and mean characters. They are a means for children to cope with times of change and transition. No child ever remembers when their 'friend' first arrived or when they departed. They are a lingering memory of childhood that fills a special place in an individual's heart, never to be forgotten. However, the time will sadly come when they will be passed over like an abandoned toy, when reality reaches into a child's innocence, forcing them to grow up.

But for some children, imaginary friends are symbols of memories of another life. They never vanish. They are a defining part of their life. Ghosts of past lives haunting the reborn so their restless souls can accomplish their unfinished business. Most might grow up suppressing these recollections, but sometimes an incredible soul can defy the powers of life and death in the name of love.

Komori Hiroko was one such individual.

Hiroko was born on the 15th of February. Her infant mind was shadowy and confused by the newness of her world, but she instinctively knew three things beyond the comfort of her mother's warmth.

Nowaki: he was the most important part of her, and he was not there…

She wanted him.

She missed him.

She loved him with all her heart and soul.

From her first word, Nowaki had been a frequent topic in the Komori household, so it has been since she could confidently speak in sentences from the age of months. Her early childhood had been a little isolated from the world, growing up in a Shinto temple complex had some drawbacks. Her family was everything her playmates and carers. Hiroko did not mind; she was naturally a bit of a loner, so she grew up with Nowaki as her best friend. She loved every adventure, story and laughed he triggered with his crazy ideas from dressing up in a kimono to watch the fireworks to playing in the bath with her ever-growing rubber duck collection. Not all parents would have been thrilled with an imaginary man being their child's best friend. Her parents, Komori Hiroeki and Emiko, were two creative souls who thought it a blessing their daughter had a vivid and vibrant imagination.

Nowaki had a nightly invitation to dinner.

Nowaki had a chair in the family room just for him.

Nowaki always had the first refusal of ringing the temple bell.

The bedtime tradition in the Komori household was to bid Nowaki goodnight every evening.

For the first five years of life, Hiroko lived in paradise.

For the next five years, she would live in hell all because of the dreams.

On the afternoon of her fifth birthday, Hiroko was sitting beside her open bedroom window with a book open on her lap listening to the rain. She never really liked the rain. It stirred a nervousness inside her. Her dad called it an irritational fear. Everyone had them according to her father. Somehow, deep inside there was a heaviness residing in her heart that was triggered by the rain. A profound notion of a loss, loneliness, and sorrow rose when the skies wept. She could never find the words to describe the sensation to anyone. It was like a ghostly twinge you felt like a blurry dream that you could never quite recall after waking. She believed there was something from her infancy that had scared her caused her fear of the rain.

In a few hours, her parents would be home from an unexpected trip to Tokyo.

Her family was trying to keep upbeat and smiley, but something was wrong. Her mother had been the doctor a lot recently. Everyone was on edge in the house, even her steadfast grandfather. He had been praying an awful lot at the shine lately. As a priest, he prayed a lot, but he was praying every spare moment he possessed recently.

Sighing, she tried to muster up the energy to smile; the guests would be arriving soon to celebrate her fifth birthday. Sitting opposite her, the lanky figure of Nowaki sat watching the rain opposite her. Troubled blue eyes observed her, still, as always, loving and kind. Crawling over into his imaginary arms, she cried into his comforting arms. As the sobs eased, she looked out over the wet garden. There were only silence and the steady patter of the damn rain. Even the birds were too miserable to sing on this rainy evening.

"Nowaki," she whispered sleepily. "What is happening to the world?"

Exhausted from crying, she drifted asleep on her window seat.

Blurry sunshine washed over Hiroko's face as she opened her eyes. The world had an odd feeling to it. Everything was an echo, dream-like. Nothing felt real. The grass was itchy and spiky, but also bouncy. It was an extraordinary sensation. Sitting up, she peered around this odd place she had awoken in. She was miles from anywhere she recognised. Yet, there was a sense of déjà vu as if she had walked here before. Behind her, a river meandered its way amongst the dwellings and businesses of a busy suburb, outlined on each side by a strip of green spaces dotted with the occasional lonely tree. Under a tall sakura tree sat a bespectacled brown-haired boy on a rug, an old tattered book resting on his lap and a bag propped up against the tree. Glancing left and right, she noted that there was no one else in the locality. Standing, Hiroko cautiously approached the boy, hoping he might be able to answer her questions about her present circumstances.

"Hello?" She ventured softly.

The boy lifted his head, his brown eyes inspecting her a moment, before closing his book.

"You're late," he remarked off-handedly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling unusually shy. "I didn't know you were expecting me."

"Hmmm. Excuses, excuses. Better learn this lesson now; people who want results do not have time for excuses."

This boy was rude, she thought.

Removing his glasses, the brown-eyed boy set them aside along with his book. He gestured 1nonchalantly beside him for her to sit down on the grass. The silence stretched for a moment as the pair observed each other. Hiroko felt that she knew this boy from somewhere. Scrutinizing his face, she wondered how she could know him? While he studied her in return, she felt as if his gaze could pierce her soul. There was no notion of invasion, only an awareness of familiarity. Hiroko was about to ask who he was when in his eyes she saw a reflection of Nowaki.

"I know you!" She blurted out.

"Yes, I suppose you do in a warped way." He responded. "But that is insubstantial at this present moment in time. You have a decision to make."

Puzzled, Hiroko continued to glare at him.

With an exasperated sigh, he continued. "You have a decision to make."

"A decision about what?" She asked.

A thunderclap overhead made Hiroko jump.

Breaking their shared gaze, she looked upwards at the sky. The world had turned darker, and more menacing. A shiver passed down her spine as if someone had walked across her grave. The world seemed to expand for a moment, and the dreaminess of their world seemed to vanish. Noise re-entered their bubble. The wind whistled through the tree branches; grumbling car engines and the whizzing buzz of mopeds; families laughing and the clinking of dishes from the residences just over the riverbank. The world appeared to revert to a state of reality. Turning back, she looked at her companion.

"What happened?" She asked.

"You woke up."

"No, I didn't!" Hiroko shouted as the thunderous rumble of a train passed nearby. "This isn't my house; this isn't even the city of Nagoya."

"No. You are in Tokyo."

Startled, Hiroko glanced about the capital city of her country. She had never been so far away from home before. It was impossible! People did not fall asleep to awaken in strange cities, miles away from home. Closing her eyes, she fought the urge to panic. It was all just a dream.

A warm hand touched her arm, causing her to jump. Opening her eyes, she met a tortured gaze. In an instant, all her anxiousness vanished as she lost herself in that look. It spoke of something terribly wrong. She could feel it in the depths of her subconscious. What they were doing felt wrong; this act was breaking all the rules.

"What is going on?" She asked shaking her head.

"Please... if you struggle," he implored her, "there is no chance for a tomorrow for him. The world should not end like this for us."

Her voice for the first time sounded child-like and innocent; it cracked as she spoke. "What do you mean?"

"I need you to listen carefully, Hiroko," The boy said, crouching beside her placing his hands on her shoulders. "Nowaki needs you. If you don't help him, he will die because of us."

Death was years overdue.

Holding the box of meds, Nowaki smiled fanatically, as he swallowed tablet after tablet. The doctor had prescribed these pills to help him overcome his sleepless nights five years ago. He had thrown them to the back of the cupboard, leaving them forgotten. He had wanted to suffer. Ironic, how feelings changed. Now, he longed for peace. The peace of the eternal sleep to join his Hiro-san in death. He would lie beside his Hiro-san in a grassy meadow in the other world by tomorrow as if the last years were nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

Blurriness fogged his vision for a moment, leaving Nowaki feeling motion sick and swaying on his feet. Fogginess would soon consume his brain; this was the time to go. He needed to act quickly. People would no doubt think he was merely drunk and ignore him as he wobbled down the street. Pocketing his car keys, he drew up the last reserves of his control and forced his body to comply. He grabbed his bag and picked up his coat and Hiro-san's old scarf. He could still smell the lingering scent of his lover, so he thought. He wore it always. It gave him courage. He tucked the scarf into his coat, glancing around the home he shared with his Hiro-san, he bid the place a final farewell. There would be no return here. He strolled casually to the car, pulled open the door and slid in. The engine growled to life. Nowaki stared up through the window to the apartment where they had made their life.

He felt no regret.

Driving through the streets late at night was easy. Most families were at home, eating dinner and enjoying being close to loved ones. In the past, at this time of night, he would return home from a long day's shift to find Hiro-san reading on the sofa or curled up asleep with his book. Grumpy and grouchy when awake, in peaceful slumber Hiro-san had been cute and child-like. Save for the final sleep. There had been no peace in his death mask. A troubled face was the last image that haunted Nowaki's dreams for years. Had Hiro-san thought of him in his final moments? The thought of parting must have caused that pained look.

He braked finally and indicated to pull into a nearby vacant space. Panting, Nowaki felt his body tremble with the effort. The high dose medication was undoubtedly working as he had calculated, mixed with the painkillers; he would have precisely thirty minutes. More than enough time to complete the tasks he had planned out. Opening his bag, he drew out a notepad and began to scribble. The words were all a tingly dance as he wrote them down. It was a simple goodbye; two final wishes that he bequeathed to poor soul picking up the pieces of his shattered life. A vision of the perverted professor clouded his mind's eye. Yes, he would be best. Folding the letter, he carefully outlined the characters to spell out:

 **M University – Professor Yoh Miyagi**

 **Professor of Ancient Japanese Literature**

Sitting back, Nowaki closed his eyes and listened to the noise of the world.

It was time.

The stumbling man did not pass by unnoticed.

Several residents watched him anxiously. He was not a local man. Concerned, one debated calling the police. Most ignored his presence; unaware of the deadly mission he was on. Stumbling up to the bridge side, Nowaki stood and watched the dark water, as the lights of the road danced upon its glistening surface. How beautiful, he thought. A stray tear slipped from his dark eyes; how different his end would be, lost in the dazzling presence of numbness and glittering lights. Hiro-san had faced pain and trauma. He would slip into the cold embrace of eternity peacefully.

The dark water called to him, promising to embrace him in sweet oblivion. He no longer felt the cold of the world. A pause. He hesitated a moment, a distant voice reaching him in the breeze. A voice he recognized deep in his heart. It begged him, casting doubt. It beckoned him back from the brink. Hiro-san.

Thrusting aside the bewildering sensation, he focused on the water below.

Death can quickly found if you crave it.

Letting go is the tricky part for most.

As the drugs started to influence his senses and body, Nowaki smiled as the clouds above him parted, revealing dim, flickering stars. He could not wait to hold the warm body of his lover again. He lingered in this cold world too long without his beloved Hiro-san.

The end was simple.

Just a hop.

A brief sense of weightless.

The collision with the bitterly cold water knocked the breath from his lungs. The impact with the water barely registered to his stunned body. So far gone was his mind, it could not recognize whether or not the fall had caused trauma to his organs or fractured any bones. Completely numb, his body tumbled along with rapid, overflowing waters of the Sakai River, swollen from the recent heavy rain of winter. Quickly dragged under, Nowaki surrendered to the water. All resistance was gone. Gulps of dark, acrid-tasting water tinted with the city's pollution took the place of air. Water filled the cavities of his chest where life-giving oxygen once dwelt. Nerves started to tingle as his body was starving for oxygen. His muscles shrieked out. The heartbeat sluggishly as the arctic temperature pierced the shielding layers of skin and thin layers of fat.

Consciousness is dying thanks to the power of the drugs cocktail.

Asphyxiation started to set in.

His lungs screamed out.

All Nowaki knew was the comfort of drugged blackness.

Close to the end, he briefly surfaced before disappearing under again. A voice pierced his brief moment of consciousness at the river surface. A voice he had missed for so long.

NOWAKI!

NO!

NOWAKI!

Briefly, he surfaced again. A vision.

Along the bank: a child.

Hiro-san.

He was screaming.

The water was suddenly painful.

Hiro-san…

Shivering, Nowaki grit his teeth. His fingers clawed through the watery wall. The sight was useless in this watery world of smoky liquid. An unseen object collided with him. Gasping, he inhaled another mouthful of the astringent-tasting water. Spluttering, he broke the river's surface. Fingers of water caught him, pulling him back into the watery prison of the river.

Tumbling along, he struggled against the water. He wanted to see Hiro-san. Blind in the un-navigable watery world of shadows, he held desperately onto that lifeline. Hiro-san was calling for him. Suddenly, something grabbed his body. He dragged his limp, nearly lifeless form closer to it, and searched for solidness. An age passed until firm ground brushed his foot. All his energy went into that kick as he released his last breath.

Two forms broke the surface.

A team of rescuers pulled the drowning man to shore; there was a scramble of shouting and action. Agitated voices keened into mobiles, calling for emergency aid. Forceful breaths pushed into the lifeless body, the rescuer workers tirelessly biting down curses as they grappled with death to coax life back into the inert form.

Involuntarily spasms wracked Nowaki's body as he regurgitated the acidic water from his stomach and lungs. Rolling onto his side, he keened out a pathetic noise as his constricted chest fought desperately to draw in oxygen. He continued to cough up lungfuls of the absinthial water that polluted his system.

Nowaki's eyes rolled in his head, consciousness still battling the drugs.

A blurry vision stood beside him, looking at him. He raised his hand to the ghostly image. Warm wetness greeted his touch. Real. His lips twitched, calling out their name. He felt the splash of the tear against his cheek. Hiro-san was with him. He blinked, clearing his sight. It was the child-like Hiro-san. Dressed in a white gown, he leaned over him, brown eyes wide with worry and terror. He smiled up at the vision as his hand stroked the cheek of his ghost; a hand reached up and pressed his close to blessing a kiss on his palm.

Ethereal whispers touched Nowaki's ears.

Because you live and breathe…

Because you live, I live.

Live… you must live…. Without you...

Deep brown eyes held his gaze. The beautiful eyes of his lover.

"Hiro… san…" he babbled deliriously, as the ghost faded before his eyes, the darkness of unconscious claiming him.

Hiroko awoke in cold panic jolted from her nightmare shook her from her sleep.

Blood… cold… rain… agony.

She remembered her death.

She remembered why she loathed the rain.

She had dreamt of Nowaki's death.

She knew for the first time; there was something different about her existence. She knew Nowaki was not just a figment of her imagination. Somehow, she knew last night he had tried to take his life. She had touched him. She had spoken to him. Staring down at hand she had touched him with, she shuddered at the memory. He was lost wandering through the world alone. She had driven him to seek death because she was not there.

The nightmare was still vivid in her mind. Sitting huddled in her window seat, arms wrapped around her skinny knees, she howled years of pent-up anguish out from the emotional overload that was too much child's body to withstand. Drying her tear-stained face on her sleeves, she longed for warmth to banish the coldness of her soul. She wanted for Nowaki. Stumbling downstairs, she found the pleasant sight of her mother. Her parents must have returned while she slept.

Running across the polished kitchen floor, she flung herself into her mother's waiting arms.

Tea spilling across the table with the force that Hiroko threw herself into those awaiting arms.

"Hiroko?" Komori Emiko questioned as she embraced her sobbing child.

"A bad dream?" Her grandmother asked.

"I have no idea; she just came dashing in like this," Emiko replied.

"Something was bothering her yesterday too," her grandmother replied. "I think she knows, Emiko."

Pulling back, Hiroko stared bewildered at the older females of the household.

"What… what's going... on?" She sobbed.

"Mummy and Daddy have something to tell you," Her mother said soberly, tears fringing her dark eyes. "Roko-chan, I am sorry, baby."

That morning Hiroko world descended further into hell…


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Author's Note:**

Previously this story was published under my previous account, Darkestforever. Sadly last July my email account attached to and my former account were compromised. While I have made every attempt to try to claim them back Microsoft and Fictionpress have not been helpful in assisting me to take back my accounts to finish publishing the works I started as Darkestforever. I have now re-registered to release this finished story, I have created a new account to allow me to finish the story, In This Life. I have updated the story dramatically since its initial publication as I had grown-up and improved my storytelling ability, so my work has evolved too.

Apologies for any confusion this causes.

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

 **Spotify Playlist** \- Search for Fanfiction - In This Life

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

* * *

 **Part 3: Scars (Corinne May)**

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;

The most massive characters are seared with scars.

~Kahlil Gibran~

 _One year later..._

Hell is not a mythical burning, fiery pit.

Hell is a very human place; filled with pure, unremitting noise.

Hell is every hospital on earth.

Hospitals are raucous places where the war zone of life and death battles out. The noise of which is unbearable to the living. Full of sounds; chattering nurses, rattling on like machine gun fire, with clicking heels. Moans, groans, and mumbles from other patients. Nerve wrecking coughs of the sick. Phones' and pagers' shrill rings sound out. Constant noise bombarded the hearing: with chirps, tinkles, beeps and mechanic whorls. Every machine possesses a signature sound.

De-deep… de-beep… de- beep.

Be-beep… be-beep… be-beep.

Berep…berep … berep.

Hospitals are where the sounds of humans and machine converge to generate a ricochet resonance, so low in pitch it eats away at the soul undetected by the soulless wraiths of the medical profession. The healthy transform slowly into wraith-like skeletal zombies; they became too weary with the burden of disease to offer resistance to that demonic resonance. First, it consumes the luminosity of life from patients' eyes. It saps the strength of their souls before ultimately claiming the heat of their hearts. Her mother was a shadow of her form incarnation; gone was the profile of the candid, proud, bubbly artist and adoring, devoted mother. Instead, lingering in that woman's place was the frail, sickly specter that preoccupied Komori Emiko.

Since the morning after her fifth birthday, Hiroko had inhabited this hell. Inescapable was the hellish torment her family had endured watching her mother perish slowly to this satanic disease called cancer. As the illness only continue to ravage Komori Emiko's young body, there was no hiding any more how dangerous her battle was becoming. Listening to the conversations of the adults, she picked up it was vital to be as positive as possible around her mother.

Hiroko had been forced to grow up a lot in the short space of a year.

Learning about her mother's cancer had changed the family. In the early days, the shock had kept her silent about the melancholy dreams that continuously haunted her. Several times, she had tried to explain to her family why she was so unhappy and troubled. Her family loved her dearly, but they seemed to chalk up her nightmares and downcast demeanor down to the trauma of the current situation.

Eventually, she realised that waking up screaming through the night was not helpfully contributing to the situation when she overheard her aunts talking about the burdens their sister was enduring. Overwhelming guilt ate away at her for weeks. She refused to go to the hospital at the time, insisting to her father she was only making her mother worse.

"Oh Roko-chan," her father, Komori Hiroeki said one morning as she sobbed on the gravel driveway of the temple household. "You're responsible for this. You are allowed to be afraid, my love. I have terrible nightmares too."

Her father proceeded to hug her tightly, whispering against her hair. "Don't worry we are going to get through this."

She decided herself to keep silent about the truth of her dreams.

She could wait until the mother her beat cancer.

The doctors had tried everything over the course of her mother's treatment. Complex operations, radiation therapy, and other drugs. The doctors had even done tests on her family to see if anyone was a compatible match for her mother. The odds at the start had been good with a mother, four aunts, two sisters and a daughter, Emiko should have had a good or partial match in the family. However, it turned out to be one of those unfortunate situations where no one in the intimate family was a match for her mother.

For nearly three months, they had traveled back and forth to Tokyo in the hope this new pioneering treatment might save her mother's life. The Pancreatic cancer had stealthily resisted all other medicine and surgery. This demon inside her mother had only spread its poisons throughout Emiko's body. Now all hopes lay in the news they were waiting for from her mother's doctors.

Seated in the family room beside her father Komori Hiroeki, in the presence maternal grandparents, Okiaya Yoshiko and Sakiko, the family waited for the life's verdict. Eternity stretched out in those moments as the doctors assessed her mother's current condition. Picking at the hem of her dress, Hiroko cast glances around the room looking at her family.

The strain was visible on her father's face.

Stern and suspicious, her grandfather scowled out at the world.

Somberly, her grandmother held herself with an unwavering conviction in fate.

The older woman still, after all, the family had been through it would turn out alright in the end.

The doctors finally returned with ashen faces- the doctors advised Hiroko to be taken from the room. Everyone stood up to face the doctors, even when the doctors suggested they all take a seat. No one moved. The tension in the room was high. She could feel the fear rolling off every adult; apparently, they had reached the point where disguising the truth was pointless.

"Maybe, you would like a nurse to take your daughter to see her mother while we talk?" The female doctor said with a weak smile to her. "Would you like that Roko-chan?"

"Thank you, but no." Her father said coming up behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders. "She understands everything that is going on."

The stance of the family was evident. This situation concerned the whole family, shying her from the truth was not going to change anything. Hiroko looked up as her father. He smiled down at her with a faked cheerfulness that broke her heart. He was trying so hard to be strong for her. All three doctors' gazes rested upon her; guilt-stricken and desolate guises co-habited their faces, as they announced their conclusions.

"I offer my sincerest apologies for the delay," the doctor who had treated her mother since the being of being transferred to Tokyo bowed slowly, his name was Doctor Kiba. "May I introduce you to Doctor Satow from the university hospital of Osaka."

The next doctor, Doctor Satow stepped forward. "I am your wife's senior oncologist consultant. I am going to recommend that we stop this treatment with immediate effect, I feel it is just causing her more pain at the moment."

"Ok," her father said looking a little shaken. "What is next then?"

There was a momentary silence before Doctor Kiba replied in a sorrowful apologetic tone. "I am afraid our findings suggest the disease is too far advanced. Further treatment would be best to make your wife comfortable and prevent your wife's suffering. Our recommendation is to ensure your wife has the best quality of life in her remaining days."

The wail that came from her grandmother reverberated through Hiroko's soul.

It was a sharp, penetrant wail that keened from the older woman.

Beside her, Hiroko felt her father shake as sorrowful sobs wracked his body. He bolted from his chair and left the room uttering flurries of sentences that Hiroko struggled to hear as the door slammed behind her father. Staring wide-eyed in puzzlement, Hiroko looked to her grandfather for an explanation as her other kin were lost to the sea of grief. What did the doctors mean by remaining days? Was her mother going to die?

Her logical, down to earth grandpa finally spoke over the wails of his wife.

"How long do you think my daughter has, Sensei Satow?" Her grandfather sternly asked.

"It is hard to predict with absolute accuracy, Okiaya-sama." Doctor Satow replied with a short intake of breath. "But I would advise you make preparations quickly, her condition is fragile, and the best estimate is weeks."

The stern, suspicious face of her grandfather fractured into a look of pained distress. He looked towards her, battling his need to surrender to his internal agony at the sickening news he just received. He gestured for her to come to him. Hiroko slipped off the plastic chair to wander into her grandfather's outstretched arms. She stared at the lingering doctors who looked uncomfortable as she passed them.

"Hiroko, do you understand what the doctors' have told us about your mother?"

"I think so, Ojii-san," Hiroko answered hesitantly.

"You are a smart girl just like your Okaa-san." Her grandfather said praising her. "Sensei Satow is going to continue helping your Okaa-san here for a while before we take her home."

"Is she going to die, Ojii-san?"

Swallowing hard, her grandfather's tawny eyes stared honestly into hers as he answers her question. "We all die in the end, Hiroko. But, your Okaa-san is very ill, so her time is precious to us as she will soon leave us."

Wrenching herself out of her grandfather's grasp, Hiroko ran. She had no control of her body; numbness seeped into her limbs as the word _soon_ resonated throughout her mind. Beads of perspiration rolled down her forehead as painful quakes throbbed small body as she ran and her heartbeat soared. Blinding white light overtook her senses. She did not know where she was going to the hospital; she just ran out of sheer desperation.

How could this be happening to her?

She didn't know how far she ran from her despair.

In a dim corridor, deep in the bowels of the hospital, she sank down and surrendered to her tears.

A faint alarm rang out somewhere in the distance.

As a team of nurses and doctors rushed down the corridor towards her, Hiroko dived into the room. She slipped through the door and closed it behind her. Listening to the footsteps rushed by. As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, she realised she was not alone. A familiar scent tickled her nose. Hiroko hesitantly looked around the room, as she eyed up each shadowy corner for searching for an adult presence. Lying in bed was a sleeping figure. She could barely see who it was from the ground.

"Who's there?" A sleepy voice asked in the darkness.

Squinting in the darkness, she saw the figure sit up on the bed wearing. A hand shot out to turn on a wall mounted light. Blinking in the sudden light, she saw the person was wearing white doctor's coat and a sleepy-faced. He rubbed the sleep from his dark eyes before studying her with a confused quizzical look. His eyes widened at the sight of a little girl sitting curled up before he leaned against the closed door.

"Hmm." The doctor said sleepily. "You are not the walk-up call I was expecting."

Hiroko opened her mouth several times, but no words came out.

The strawed-haired doctor yawned and stretched while keeping one eye on her.

"Why are you waking me up?" He asked biting back another yawn.

What kind of adult was this? Hiroko found herself thinking. This moron was acting like a can't be arsed teenager than the educated doctor he was supposed to be. Any adult would have been concerned at a child alone wandering around a dangerous environment like a hospital. This type of guy was the worst. How did people like this become doctors in the first place? This guy had an aura of trouble.

 _Not someone to trust_ , her inner voice screamed.

"Tell you what, I will tell you my name if you tell me yours?" He suggested with a smile. "I am Tsumori-sensei. I am a doctor in the pediatrics ward, do you know what that is?"

"Children's medicine." She replied softly.

"That's right." Tsumori smiled with an idiotic gleeful look. "What is your name, sweetie?"

"Komori Hiro-ko."

"Are you a patient here?"

"No, my mum is."

"Ah," he smiled. "Why are you here alone?"

"I ran away when the doctors said, my mummy, is going to die." Hiroko hiccupped feeling the threat of tears burning in her eyes.

Clearly, at this point, Tsumori realised he had opened a can of worms. He looked like a man treading carefully around broken glass. He attempted to say something but then shut his mouth a little lost for words as she looked up at him. Somehow that face looked strangely familiar as he flapped like a fish out of water.

"Ah," Tsumori said eventually scratching a hand through his hair, looking stumped at what to say next. "Guessing that sucked."

"Oh shit, I am sorry." He backtracked. "I mean. Why don't you come with me? We are close to the toy room of the pediatrics unit; you can go pick something to play with for a bit if you like."

She stared up at him in horror. Honestly, who says that to a distressed child? He had always been an idiot thought she thought to herself. Hiroko blinked in confusion for a moment. Where had that thought come from? That self-centered smile plastered on his face looked like she had seen it before.

"I don't think I am really in the mood to play right now." She replied with you idiot look.

"Right of course," Tsumori replied. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She shook her head in response.

"No, thank you," she replied tartly wrapping her arms around her knees.

Tsumori was about to try to say something else when his pager rang out.

Be-bep… be-bep… be-bep.

He briefly read the message before another one arrived.

Be-bep… be-bep… be-bep.

"Looks like they are looking for you." He said looking at her. "Right, you are coming with me to the pediatrics unit, we can sort this out from there."

A little while later, after the idiot Tsumori dumped her at the pediatrics nurses station, a nurse swept her long to a spare bed. Several other children lay in beds in the ward fast sleep as the nurse gave her an extra nightgown and a glass of milk to drink. The nurse looking after her as if she was made of glass. The nurse tucked her into the bed telling her to take a nap as it was incredibly late. Hiroko knew it was about nine o'clock at night which should probably be well past her bedtime.

She lay there for a while staring at the ceiling.

Her mind replaying every word the doctors said.

"Nowaki," she whispered to herself. "I am scared."

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to a safe place full of Nowaki and his reassuring smiles. While lost in her imagination, Hiroko peacefully drifted off to dream of Nowaki.

She dreamt she was in her secret den.

Above her, sunlight streamed through the tree canopy above, birds twittered in the underbrush, and the wind whispered musically through the blossoming branches. A magical thicket of peace, where the sky floated amongst the trees, bathed in the sensual chorus of colour, sunlight, and birdsong. Sitting up a gentle breeze tussled the locks of her hair; as she reached to brush her bangs out of her eyes another hand stroked them away.

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up into the loving cobalt blue eyes of her Nowaki.

A stray tear slid down Hiroko's cheek. Reaching up to touch the salty wetness, she remembered. Her mother. Sobs slowly emanate from her quivering body. Hot, painful tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Nowaki held to his chest as she howled her heartache.

"Erm… please don't cry." He said, hopelessly lost at what else to do.

"She is dying." Hiroko sobbed.

Suddenly, the gentle touch of her Nowaki cupped Hiroko's face in his soft hands. His gaze held hers in a tender, loving look. Tears slowly dried upon her cheeks as she continued to watch him amazed at his sudden appearance. He leaned forward drawing her close in a gentle gesture of comfort.

"Au wa wakaré no hajimé," Nowaki whispered to her. "Do you know what this phrase means?"

Hiroko shook her head.

"Meeting is only the beginning of the separation," he translated. "That's what 'Au wa wakaré no hajimé ' means. No one we meet in our lives is ours to keep forever; from the moment we meet someone, separation will occur at some point in the future as everyone must die in the end. As you grow, you will understand the meaning of this phrase if you retain your memories."

"If?" Hiroko asked, a little confused.

Nowaki looked saddened, smaller in statue suddenly. "Most people forget their previous lives as they grow older, I only exist within your memories now. You'll forget me one day."

Haunting sounds slowly rose on the breeze, as Hiroko stared at the disheartened form of her lover before her. "How could I forget you? I love you!"

"They will try to force you to forget," he whispered mellifluously to the rustling breeze.

"They can't force me to forget you." She replied. "I will find you."

Nowaki smiled a small sad smile. "I hope I am still here for you to find."

Suddenly the form of her Nowaki melted away.

His beautiful face then cracked as if he was wearing a mask. The pieces falling away crumbling to dust to revealing a patchwork of bruises, lesions, and dressings. The figure of her Nowaki who sat before her a moment before bleed away to reveal a broke body held together with plaster casts and painful looking contraptions. Several intravenous infusion drips route fluids and medication into his body. The dark red one she recognised as blood. He wore a hospital down as if he had recently had surgery. She recognised it as the same as her mother's. The steady hiss of oxygen into the ventilator mask covering his face clearly spelt out that his condition was critical.

"Nowaki." She whispered leaning forward to brush her small fingers through his hair careful of the wires and tubes attached to her Nowaki.

A soft moan escaped from Nowaki's lips.

Befuddled cerulean blue eyes tried to focus on her.

"No-waki." She gasped aloud.

He admitted a groan of filled with distress and discomfort extricated as he tried to speak.

"Hush now, I am here," Hiroko whispered leaning over the assortment of tubes to tenderly brush her small hand again an undamaged part of his cheek.

Those cerulean blue eyes focus on her again.

Suddenly, Hiroko's perspective on the world changed. She was no longer in her own small body. She looked out across a hospital room. Her body pinned down an unable to move. A strange squawky noise escaped her throat. She clearly was trying to say something to someone. She stilled for a moment, feeling a mask covering her nose and month. She grabbed at the mask and tubes, pulling hard against them.

Instantly, a machine admits a shrill alarm.

In gut reaction to the alarm, she tried to push the mask back into place.

Strange, but familiar voices surround her.

"Nowaki, calm down." A male voice pleads. "Please, you need to calm down!"

Hiroko struggled against the hold of an orderly pinning her down against the bed.

Pain shoots through her heavy body.

She continues to fight and struggle against the restraining wall of arms and hands hold her down.

A face hovers over her in periphery vision. A man she recognises, as she feels the pinprick of a needle pierces her skin. Images of the black-haired smoking man ripe through her mind. He calls her his sweet-love honey. Infuriating her as she desperately tries to shake off the hold of the orderly who is dragging her from Nowaki. Nowaki is in the doorway. The punch is direct and the black-haired buffoon falls to the floor with a thud.

Gasping she is suddenly in her own quivering body with a rush of adrenalin as she tries to understand.

Was that Nowaki?

She felt as if she had just been in his body.

Her beautiful broken Nowaki.

Had the dream of his suicide been real?

Was he dying?

Panic filled her she had to wake up. She needed to find him. Her Nowaki needed to be saved. He could not die, not now.

Glancing around, Hiroko looked about in panic as the thicket around her started to blur.

Distant voices whispered to her calling her to consciousness.

 _Roko-chan._

 _Hiroko darling, time to wake up…_

 _Sweetheart?_

The dream became hazy as Hiroko heard her aunt Atkemi's voice call to her. Opening her eyes, she came to lying in the guest bed of the relative's room in St Luke's International Hospital. She was a little startled at first as she had been in another department of the hospital.

Her aunt stroked her hair out of her face with a gentle smile. "Are you ready to go see your mum? She was asking for you a little while ago."

A sliver of fear slithered through her vein at the thought of seeing her mother.

Slowly, she nodded knowing she had to face this.

Komori Emiko was still dosing as her daughter stood sentry watching over her. Contemplating the myriad of memories that had no definition in her mind from her perch on her mother's bed, Hiroko found herself dwelling on dark thoughts. Her dream had distressed her. Her thoughts loitered on the nameless boy entrapped in her memory; she had sworn an oath not to forget. The encumbering weight of her promise now sprawled before her. Where did she start? For years, she had a reminiscence about Nowaki. Mistaken for an imaginary friend her family failed to perceive the character possessed more than fantastical meaning. How did a six-year-old persuade the modern world they could commemorate a past-life?

Hiroko glanced at the noisy monitor beside her mother's bed. Despite the shortness of time, she had come to learn how to interpret the display. Today, she understood she had lost a little more of her mother. The adagio of her mother's heart rhythm was giving out to the slow fade of the outro of life. Breathing was becoming a laborious affair for her mother's waning body. A nurse enters with a respectful bow; she checks the IV drip before noting down the stats from the monitor. The IV machine beeped as it concluded its cycle. Disconnecting the tubes, the nurse dismissed herself to fetch fresh saline drip and the barrage of medication her mother was receiving.

The beeping ruckus of the machine disturbed her mother's slumber. Pale chestnut eyelashes flutter against the austere glower of the fluorescent lighting. Concealing her sensitive eyes to the light with the heel of her hand, Emiko smiled faintly as Hiroko scrambled to the switch above the bed, clicking off the painful glare of the lights.

Returning to her seat, Hiroko sat rigidly upright; her eyes downcast studying the wrinkles in the bed covers. Her shoulders drooped as if fraught with the weight of the world. Concerned, Emiko reached out a hand to stroke her daughter's hair, comfortingly.

"You are very quiet, Roko-chan," Emiko commented. "This has been very hard on you, hasn't it? You probably don't understand everything that's been going on."

Her daughter remained quiet.

Trying again, Emiko asked, "Hiroko, what troubles you, sweetheart? Its alright if you're afraid."

"Mama, do I have to forget?"

Drawing her daughter close, Emiko sighed. "You never have to forget darling. I will never forget you."

"But you will!" Hiroko protested before biting her lip. "Mama, do you ever think I am strange?"

"Strange?" She asked confused.

Hiroko pulled back a little to face her mother; she looked up into her mother's eyes honestly and direct. "Isn't strange I accomplished so many things as infancy so quickly. My vocabulary is better than most other children and so are my mathematical skills. Grandma says I am better than her!"

"You are just special, Hiroko."

"No," Hiroko cried. "I wasn't. Not until I came here. I was normal and worked hard for the things I achieved. My only strength was I was intelligent!"

Emiko frowned. "Until you came here, Hiro-chan? The hospital?"

Hiroko shook her head violently in denial, her brown hair flipping side to side. "No! Until I came to your family."

Emiko felt her eyes widen at her daughter's declaration. Tears started to roll down, Hiroko's cheeks as she sat on her knees, hand clenching the bed covers. Uncertainty clambered at Emiko's heart; she lay back against her pillows considering her daughter circumspectly. What had possessed Hiroko to utter such words? Her calm, level-headed daughter was an incredibly honest child. Hiroko had a great imagination, but the voyages into the whimsical only took place regarding her imaginary companion, Nowaki.

It was out of character to tell tall tales to an adult before.

She told stories about Nowaki but nothing the crossed over into real life.

"Hiroko, what are you trying to tell me? Darling, you are speaking in riddles."

"Oh Mama," Hiroko whimpered softly rubbing the tears from her eyes, angrily. "I don't want to forget him. If I forget him how will I find him again?"

"Forget who?"

"NOWAKI!"

Sighing, Emiko pinched the bridge of her nose. The nurse chose this moment to re-enter with the refill saline bag and the next dose of medication. As the IV drip cycle started, she thanked the nurse. The young woman smiled warmly and offered to fetch anything that Emiko might like. The gurgles in her daughter's stomach reminded her it was well past dinner; her husband had probably been distracted forgotten to feed Hiroko. Life was going to be difficult for Hiroeki; his responsibilities would double without her. Glancing at the shaking form of her daughter, Emiko wondered if this episode was attention seeking.

Asking the nurse for a few snacks, she focused back on Hiroko.

"Hiroko, there is a large adjustment period going on at the moment," Emiko explained to her, tilting her daughter's chin up to look at her face. "Someone may have overlooked your feelings and been insensitive to the fact you are a child. You always act so maturely; it is easy for adults especially to be clumsy and forget you are still only five years old."

Hanging her head dejectedly, Hiroko mumbled onwards. "No one understands."

"Oh, Hiroko!" Emiko retorted feeling her patience lagging. "Please then be straightforward and explain to me, what has occurred to make you play up like this? Are you angry? Unhappy?"

The next remark caught Emiko off-guard.

"What if you there were two people very much in love- true everlasting love, which they had struggled through hardships for- but one day death tore them apart?"

"Hiro-chan…"

"But death wasn't the end," Hiroko continued. "What if one was reborn and remembered their love? What if they could never forget? How do you live knowing that?"

Tears touched her cheeks as she listened to her daughter's words. Emiko was uncertain if Hiroko was talking about herself or her parents. Was she trying to ask if her mother would return in another life to their family? Raised in a Shinto temple, Emiko had been instructed to find happiness in the blessing of this life. One of the few dedicated Shinto families, she had never really given consequence to the thought of the afterlife. Her father had told her rebirth was Buddhist philosophy. The afterlife was a vague concept regarding the Shinto philosophy, she had found through her studies. Personally, Emiko believed love was life's most treasured gift; so rare and priceless how could it merely vanish with a soul's last breath.

"Of course, I believe we come back to be with those we have loved."

"Mama, Nowaki is a real person who I loved once," Hiroko said looking up into her mother's eyes; her heart was in every word her small lips uttered. Her eyes suddenly large, seeming older than her years. "I had a dream where I remembered my death. I can't forget that! I don't want to forget because if I do, it means I will lose him too!"

How did one respond to such a revelation?

"Why don't you tell me from the begin?" Emiko suggested brushing aside her daughter's tears.

As her daughter slept curled up beside her, Emiko stared out over the city; the moonlight bathed the hospital room in an eerie glow. Regretfully, she would die here. She had hoped to return to Nagoya. However, the doctors had dashed her hopes. She was already in the first stages of organ failure they had confessed to her earlier that evening. Her time was growing incredibly short as the doctors had confirmed she would only have hours left.

Quietly the door clicked open as she looked out on the world, entering silently Hiroeki came to his wife. It was roughly just before the dawning of the new day- precisely 3:16 am. They greeted each other with silent smiles, and he bestowed a soft kiss on his wife's lips.

Emiko was already starting to feel the weightiness of sleep upon her shoulders. Sleep from which she inwardly knew there was no awakening from. When she knew her body was beginning to fail her, she had requested the nurse send for her husband. She wanted to discuss an important matter with him. In hushed tones, they whispered about Hiroko. Reviewing the claim, their daughter stated received a snort of disbelief. Piercing her husband with a stern look, he apologised and continued to listen to her silently. They talked for hours until the horizon faded from the darkness of the stars to the pinks rays of morning.

"She is convinced, Hiroeki," Emiko said taking a painful breath.

"Do you believe her?" Her husband asked her honestly still bearing a look of disbelief.

Emiko looked down Hiroko who lay tucked in the blanket beside her with tears in her eyes. "I do."

"Why?" Hiroeki asked moved by his wife's conviction.

"Because I want to believe I will see you again," Emiko said adoringly to her soulmate.

Clasping her husband's hand, she implored him for one final request.

Deathbed promises for their daughter.

"Please help her, Hiroeki."

The heart monitor chirped.

Time was close.

Glancing at Hiroko's slumbering form, Emiko memorised that innocent image, the gently sucking of her thumb in her sleep. Leaning over, she kissed her daughter for the last time. She did not wake Hiroko. She did not want her to remember this.

Whispering to her softly, Emiko said her final farewells to her slumbering daughter. "Hiro-chan, no language on earth could convey how much I am going to miss you. You fear to forget, well I am afraid you will forget about me too."

Emiko raised her eyes to hold her husband's tentative gaze as she whispered a sacred vow.

"If it is your heart's desire, my darling." Komori Hiroeki answered softly. "I will support her in any way I can."

Entwining their fingers together, they spoke little for a while saving to imprint their declarations of love upon each other's hearts. As the dawn surrendered to the light, Emiko's frail-hold on life slipped away. Her last breath pleaded once more for her husband to love and cherish their daughter and for him to trust in the caprice of everlasting love.

The pinnacle event for Hiroko's life would be the loss of her mother. Most people are cushioned in life; it is those who feel the array of emotions who genuinely come to understand and cherish life. For Hiroko, her mother's early demise was ingrained in her childhood memory, which scarred, like burns, never allowing her to forget for a moment the remarkable woman or the associated memories of lost love.

It is through the hardship of loss; we discover the gift of love and life as we are tested with the adversity of grief. The grief that marked Hiroko would set her apart. At the age when most children identified to possess past-life recall start to forget and adjust to becoming a new individual, Hiroko's scars would mean Nowaki would never be able to leave her side. His memory would provide her the courage to stand firm; as her family grieved, she found her stride in life. With it flourished the conviction to rediscover her past and to seek out Nowaki grew stronger.

As she presented her mother's ashes to the family alter, she prayed to her mother for guidance and aid and to come back to her.

May the gods grant me the strength to seek out my fate.

Wisdom for my soul madly and helplessly blinded by love.

Protection of my heart that will never know love like this again.

(To Be Continued...)


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** **In This Life**

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Warning: Please be aware this story is based on a character death and that character being reborn as a different individual.**

 **This means the relationship at the heart of this story will be Hiroki x Nowaki, but Hiroki's soul will be reborn in an original character.**

 **This story will have Nowaki x OC relationship going forward.**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify:

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

* * *

 **Part 4: Against All Odds (Phil Collins)**

Never stop trying.

Never stop believing.

Never give up.

Your day will come.

~ Mandy Hale ~

Death changes us all in many ways.

Some people find strength from losing a loved one.

Some seek solace in a purpose to recover from the loss.

Some others will crumble under the immense weight of the shock of loss.

Hardness and numbness can grow in place of where love once dwelt after a loss.

While other hearts just never recover from the tribulation of loss.

For the second time in her short life, Komori stared death in the face as her family mourned the loss of a mother, sister, and daughter. Death no longer frightened her. She found walking in Death's shadow it only gave her courage and determination. Death had also granted her an ally. Her father was still reeling from the loss of his wife and soulmate. Her father, Komori Hiroeki, was trying to find purpose through navigating through death. He was trying his best to deliver on his deathbed promise to her mother. He desperately was trying to believe in her story. He longed to have the faith his wife had. He knew that Emiko had felt a sense of relief in Hiroko's declaration. The possibility that they might meet again had in fact been the reason Hiroeki had gotten out of bed most mornings after her death. Trying to help his daughter was an outlet for his grief. He was still not sure he believed the story that Hiroko has conveyed so many times to him, but there was something he recognised in the way she spoke volumes of someone who knew love and lose beyond that of a child of his daughter's young age.

After the last ritual of the Shinto forty-nine days of mourning had passed, her father had taken her aside to his study to talk in secret.

"Roko-chan, we can't tell your grandparents about what we are going to be doing." He said to her as she sat on his knee. "This is a secret project just for us."

"Yes, Ota-san." She promised him keenly.

"Can you tell me everything you remember?"

Hours of repetition followed.

Hiroko would have to recant her story many times. Her father needed to be sure the story never changed before he started researching her story. As a writer and researcher, he had many assets at his disposal for fact-checking. He was diligently attempting to trace events. The issue was the vagueness of the critical details.

While it was not uncommon for children with past life memories to not consistently recall all the information about themselves, Hiroko had a severe lack of knowledge about her past self. She could remember living in a big city modern city. There were lots of towers blocks; she ended up living high up with a balcony. She had giggled in happiness remembering watching the fireworks with Nowaki. Nowaki was the only name she could recall clearly, but not the characters that spelled it or if it was the man's first or second name. Deaths involving a road collision were in the thousands for the country of Japan. Hundreds in Toyko alone, without a name or a timeframe tracking down the specific day or year, seemed unlikely. The lack of clues made her father's research difficult.

Although the details were sketchy, her drawings of places she had seen or visited were astonishingly detailed which assisted their search. Looking on google maps, she had identified the river she had dreamt of as her father showed her possible places he had discovered resembling her drawings. So far, they had identified the site of a potential area of Tokyo she had lived. Hiroeki had been a little perturbed studying the pictures of the river she disconcertingly described talking of the dream where she saw Nowaki try to commit suicide. He had drawn out a map the locations he had identified in the hope of triangulating some epicentre, but her father had only found more questions than answers.

Her father read articles online from all over the world about past life regression. He tried to walk her through an exercise several times after watching a YouTube video about triggering a regression in the hope of unearthing more details. Hiroko had failed miserably while conscious to connect to that space in her soul that housed the bubbling memories of her past. Desperate to try to source more information, her father had reached out to a researcher who specialised in past life recollection in children as the window of time that Hiroko would remember the memories was running out. Most children failed to recall the same details they spoke of their past lives in infancy beyond the age of ten. Hiroko was swiftly approaching her seventh birthday.

Death had also changed Okiaya household.

Her grandfather had become more solemn and sour with the loss of his beloved daughter and heir to his temple.

He became stricter 1in the management of his complex and adhering to temple rites over fake western holidays like Christmas.

Almost a year to the day of the anniversary of her mother's death, her secret was exposed to the Okiaya clan. Hiroko had attended school as normal up until this point in her life; her teachers would often describe her as mature, serious child gifted with a brilliant mind and incredible imagination. That day changed everything. Komori Hiroeki had always made a point of collecting his daughter from school, so it was a surprise to find one of the temple's apprentices waiting for her.

Arriving home, Hiroko was slipping her shoes off, when her grandmother came from the kitchen.

"Hiroko, come with me please." Her grandmother said formally, looking down at the floor.

Her grandmother led her to the temple office.

Kneeling down, the older woman, gracefully organised her kimono before knocking on the screen.

"Enter!" Came the harsh response from within.

The shoji screens opened to reveal her grandfather and several of the other temple elders. The room was dark, illuminated only by candlelight. The air was thick with incense. Several severe-looking men sat gathered dressed in their sacred temple robes. Chimes of the Temple bells tolled as she was instructed to sit in the centre of the room on the tatami floor.

Glancing up, she met the hostile glare of her grandfather. Okiaya Yoshiko was a strict and austere man at times, but fair, honest and kind with family. However, when he placed under the weighty expectations of the temple, his family and apprentices could feel his coldness. A devote purist Shinto priest; he was wary of the outside world and foreigners. His heart had hardened further with the death of his daughter. There was no tolerance for failures in his mind; he dictated a stringent regime that was rigorous in maintaining discipline and the purity of the Shinto beliefs.

Curiously, Hiroko sat in wonderment at the reason for the gathering.

Sternly surveying her, her grandfather summoned forward one of his apprentices. The young man scurried forward carrying a heavy book. A streak of fear grew inside her heart as she recognized the cover.

"Komori Hiroko is the only child of my daughter, Emiko," her grandfather's booming voice announced to the room. "Reverberations of a disconcerting nature have reached my ears regarding this child, which affronts this family and temple."

The atmosphere of the room was choked with tension.

As her grandfather continued to read from the page, she realised the purpose of this meeting. It was a purification ceremony. Hiroko listened astonished and bewildered as her grandfather recounted a tale of an evil spirit trapped within her. She was a reincarnated soul with memories and feeling from last existence. A lost kami was at fault here. A human soul whose foolish family had been irresponsible in their death duties had allowed a discontented spirit to possess a vulnerable innocent. The kami had deceived the Okiaya and Komori families through the delusion of madness instigated by that malevolent spirit consumed Hiroko.

"Follow priests, brothers; I have called you here with a special purpose." Her grandfather concluded. "My family are vulnerable at present with the death of my daughter. I must ask your assistance to perform the rituals to appease our disturbed spirits by purifying my granddaughter, to dispel this wickedness from within her."

Hiroko clambered to her feet backing away from the stare of the priests. Fear clutched at her heart as the priest beside her grandfather gave instructions to begin the ritual. Two pairs of firm hands seized her. Alien apprentices held her, forcing her down to her knees on the tatami mat floor. She struggled against their hold.

Angry voices from the passageway had interrupted the ceremony as the priests had prepared to commence. A familiar hand snatched Hiroko up. Hiroeki held his daughter close as he ranted at the gathering of men. She listened with bitterness as her father tried to explain rationally that he believed his daughter was suffering from a delicate mental state was the result of PSD due to the trauma sustained from the months that preceded her mother's death.

"The evidence is clear that you were aiding her!" Her grandfather snarled throwing the books from her father's study at her feet.

"I was reading material to see what was the best way to help her!" Her father thundered back. "That's called good parenting!"

"How dare you insult me in my own home!" Her grandfather roared.

"Fine, we will leave," Hiroeki answered back.

A smiled twisted across her grandfather's face.

Hiroko felt her trust in her family perish at that moment.

A man rose to his feet at the moment behind her grandfather.

He was a man she recognised as her grandfather's lawyer.

"Komori Hiroeki," the suited man said with a fierce look. "These are custody papers. Her grandparents are challenging your suitability as guardian of your daughter. You have no home of your own, no family support, no steady employment or resources to raise your daughter. With those facts taken into consideration, the family court has granted temporary custody of your daughter, Hiroko to her maternal grandparents."

She never got the chance to say goodbye to her father as he was dragged out the house. Her throat was raw from screaming for him. Her grandmother held her as she sobbed into the older woman's embrace. In her despair, she stopped talking for a week. She would never speak to her grandfather again, even though she spent the rest of her childhood and teenage years living under his roof.

A year of psychological testing and isolation followed.

Diagnosis varied from the baffled to the deranged; the doctors and psychologists recommended several courses of medication to control the conditions that plagued her mind. Resentment grew in her soul with every passing day. She resisted every treatment, flushing tablets that she was forced to hide under her tongue. Her grandparents withdraw her from school to keep her isolated at the temple, ashamed of her crazy behave and rantings. Their efforts only inspired Hiroko's determination and stubbornness. For a year, she imprisoned herself in the sanctuary of a world, surrounded by memories and dreams of a man with kind eyes.

A compromise eventually came through her grandmother's influence. Okiaya Sakiko was an unnervingly beautiful woman in her early sixties. She possessed soft sepia eyes, aphotic shiny black hair and endowed with the courtly graces of serenity, elegance, and poise of a bygone era. Before her Miai, her grandmother worked as a successful accountant in the business world. Upon her marriage, she became responsible for the management of the temple's finances; her savvy financial proposals had allowed the temple to flourish. She was highly respected within the temple and local community for her efforts. Her infamy came from her kindness, generosity and meticulous organisation of the festival's food stalls, entertainment, carnival games and firework displays.

Sakiko's heart could not bear the numerous medical treatments that were subjugating upon her granddaughter. Hours of her limited spare time she dedicated to researching alternative therapies. Seeking out new insights into human psychologies in the hope of finding some way of ending the suffering she witnessed in her own home. On Hiroko's tenth birthday, her grandmother took charge of her education out of fear Hiroko was falling behind. Determined to see that her intelligent granddaughter mind was adequately instructed and challenged.

Sakiko never entertained the thought that behind her granddaughter's misery was the seed of truth. She believed her son-in-law's idea that Hiroko had PSD from the loss of her mother. Claiming she had had a past life was her expression of that grief merged with the overindulgence of her parents in an active imagination as an infant with this imaginary friend Nowaki. She had no idea, an educational trip to Kyoto would open her eyes to a new troubling world.

Kyoto was the perfect location to study Japanese history, in her grandmother's eyes and to experience autumn festivals by visiting prominent historical temples and sites. Her grandfather was too busy with their own temple's celebrations to accompany them, so it was a welcome break from the old man for them both. Their itinerary spanned four days of touring the historic neighborhoods and exploring many local cultural experiences. Every aspect of the tour was selected to incorporate new understanding from staying in a traditional Ryokan to having a tea ceremony with a Geisha. Sitting in her yukata on their room's porch while supposed to be reading Tanabe Kaho's novella 'Yabu no uguisu,' her mind unengaged from the prose, which she found unimaginative.

Her thoughts strayed to the fantastic city of Kyoto. For three days, Hiroko had enjoyed the escape of her grandfather's iron hand regime were his apprentices' eyes followed her every movement. She had experienced the comforts of the Tamahan Ryokan, an establishment that valued the privacy of its guests and specialized in high-quality Kyoto cuisine. The food of the inn had been exquisite. Food was usually a lost luxury to her as her medication often blunted the tastes of most dishes. Kyoto chefs had invented a type of cuisine resistant to those side-effects. Her favourite dish was Shimokobai. It resembled a mid-winter plum blossom; the sensation created by the flavors and textures of this appetizing wagashi bemused her. The excitement that tickled her taste buds were subdued but quite weird and otherworldly. The filling was gooey, sweet white bean paste that was soft and creamy on the tongue. An addictive sweet!

Her stomach gurgled at the thought of food.

Sighing, she closed the book.

Glancing back into the guest room, Hiroko watched her grandmother pacing while chatting on the phone. The evening check-in call. Every night this call took place; her grandfather would speak to her grandmother to check on their progress and to ensure had been no incidents. She would glad swear on the spirits that the men of the Okiaya household were worrying like old women. Kyoto had not invoked any recollection experiences for her; occasionally she had turned down a street and faced a momentary sense of déjà vu. There were no ghosts in this city for her to react to.

The Tamahan Inn's resident cat spooked her. With a laugh, Hiroko petted the friendly feline. Her heart ached for a moment for her beloved pet miles away in Nagoya. Akihiko would probably never have noticed her absence. Her kitten had more attitude than most humans. A venomous hatred of the male species was his talent. The temple apprentices' complaints were rife about the silver tabby, which hissed and yowled if they came to close. He had been a gift from her aunt Atkemi upon her return from university in the south. Her aunt Atkemi was the closed thing she had to a friend these days. Her cousins in Toyko were not allowed to socialise with her due to her condition. Her elementary school friends had stopped calling on her after missing another year of school.

Purring satisfied with the attention, the Tamahan's cat set off in pursuit of new mischief.

The hour was growing late. In the distance, a clock chimed the lateness of the day. Very soon, her grandmother would finish on the phone. It would be time for bed. She decided to set out her futon to get to bed early as tomorrow would be an early start as it was their last day in the city.

Their last destination was the Saihō-Ji Temple Complex.

Saihō-Ji had special meaning to the Komori family. Here in the famous moss gardens, by the pond shaped like the character for the heart, her father had proposed to her mother. Sakiko had specially requested a favour from Monks to permit them to have an extended visitors pass to the gardens for them to visit. Entry to this sacred site was by invitation only and through performing the ritual of Zazen.

Her grandmother spent the morning instructing her in the art of meditation related to Zazen. The pose necessary was seated, with folded legs and hands, and an erect but settled spine. Several times, she unbalanced herself. Determined, Hiroko disciplined herself to calm her mind, relax her body and settled her weight into the standard sitting position, with her hands folded neatly into a simple mudra over her belly. Her grandmother loomed behind her monitoring the pace of her breaths. The Hara rhythm of breathing was supposed to help the practitioner control their centre of gravity from the stomach muscles.

She was a quick study.

The Monks were impressed with her grasp of the techniques. Hiroko discovered it was easy to shut out the distraction of outside objects during the mediation. Relaxed and calm, her mind was at peace and unhindered by the drowsy sensation that clouded her mind. Whispering the chant of the sutras, Hiroko felt her soul feel enlightened. In the Calumet of serenity felt her thoughts drawn downwards, deep into the heart of her mind; it was like walking down a staircase to where a memory stirred.

Amongst the red, orange and golden foliage of the gardens was a secret path. Winding and twisting its way through the mossy banks, this path directed her to a secluded spot bathed in dappled light by a murky pond. Time was brief. A sense of urgency bubbled up in her thoughts. They could not linger here too long; ninety minutes was all they had been granted to walk along the mossy pathways. It was his concession and apology to his lover. Ninety minutes were they would hold hands in the tranquility of this private place.

Nowaki's happy and excited smile broke into her mind.

Love and adoration spilled into her heart.

Gasping, Hiroko broke her mediation. Her grandmother cast a cautionary glance towards her. A few fellow mediators appeared annoyed by the disturbance. A mumbled apology escaped her lips, as she resumed her chanting. Delight filled her heart at the realisation that had been a real memory, her first new insight in nearly a year. Nowaki was still in her soul.

At the closure of the ritual, the monks distributed delicate sheets of paper amongst the small group of visitors. The man who handed a sheet of paper to her possessed a halcyon smile. He instructed her to write down her greatest wish, with her name and address. She politely enquired to him would the monks keep the sutras and continue to pray for all the requests as the apprentices of her grandfather's temple did.

The monk chuckled. "All the sutras are kept in the pagoda, where we keep a close eye on them. Each day prayers are offered for all the wishes in the hope that good fortune is bestowed and they are granted."

"May I wish for anything?" She whispered to the Monk.

"Anything you desire," he smiled. "Make it a good wish, and I guarantee it will come true."

Over her shoulder, her grandmother was speaking to the head abbot of the Temple. An old connection of temple business united the pair in friendship. He was the remarkable man who had wavered the time limitation for their visit. Life had been wondrous the last few days. Hiroko inwardly was afraid to return home to her prison. Watching her grandmother, she wished that the older woman might be sympathetic to her and understand her better.

Could she wish for that?

Hastily, Hiroko scribbled down her wish.

Folding the paper over neatly, she passed the request into the collection bowl of a Monk. Once finished, her grandmother beckoned her over. Her grandmother introduced her to the Abbot. He greeted her warmly with affection and began the tour of the temple buildings and Northern Zen rock garden. The adults rabbited on about distant memories to which Hiroko only half listened too. Topics changed to the history of the gardens and the temple complex; changes of names and purpose. The destruction of the temple by fire and flood. Outstanding cultural beauty and hundred and twenty different types of moss.

The tour drew to a close outside the main temple hall on the Eastern side of the temple grounds.

"Well, I must return to my duties, Sakiko." The abbot said taking her grandmother's hand. "Please enjoy the rest of the eastern moss gardens with Hiroko; they are breathtakingly beautiful. Home to good memories for you too. I bid you enjoy your day."

Farewells were brief.

Turning towards the eastern grounds, Sakiko began to recant the tale Hiroko had loved to hear from her mother as a small child. The story of the romantic proposal from her father that had won her mother's heart. Even now she loved to hear the story as it was rare for Hiroeki be mentioned to her. His exile from her life was still ongoing. Hiroko was not even sure where her father was to write him a letter. The Komori family were from Kyoto; a proud dynasty who's fortune was once vast. However, biology had not been kind to the descendants of this historic family who once served the ancient households of the Emperors of Japan. Komori Hiroeki was the only heir to his father's estate. His only living relative was his aging father, Daeki, whose last wish in life was to see his beloved son married and settled.

Many Miai were planned for Hiroeki.

From all corners of Japan, girls came to try to impress the proud bachelor. Each girl failed to match the standards of her Komori grandfather. They were all too plain, too materialist or too selfish. A delayed invitation to meet with the Komori clan arrived in early spring for the Okiaya family. The Okiaya family's daughter, Emiko was the last girl to attached the Komori Miai. A recent graduate of Nagoya Women's University in Art and Design, she possessed the intelligence and sophisticated that Komori Daeki craved in a potential daughter-in-law.

Descended from a good family, Okiaya Emiko was a perfect specimen for his son.

The introduction took place in early March.

Awkward and nervous, Hiroeki and Emiko barely spoke two words during their introduction. Their parents boosted their successes and watched hopefully for signs of a promising match. Disappointment loomed in the hearts of each other the parents as they felt their children had failed to attract one another.

Weeks later, an invite arrived for the summer festival for the Okiaya family.

For several days, Emiko and her sister, Atkemi were the guests of the Komori household. Visiting the local hotspots of Kyoto and getting to know one another. The truth was Hiroeki had thought Emiko beautiful but cold at the meeting, but he could not forget her. Slowly over the course of several days, the young couple got to known each other and started to cultivate a relationship. It was a painful parting for the two. Two months of emails, Skype messages, and phone calls followed. Hiroeki came to visit the Okiaya temple. At Emiko's sister's wedding, he realised that the Okiaya household was starting to look for his beloved to secure the future of the temple. Rumours at the wedding of the intention of a novice apprentice to ask Emiko to marry him caused Hiroeki to return to Kyoto swiftly to announce his plans to his father.

A month later, with secret approval, he brought Emiko to these gardens.

By the lake surrounded by the chorus of the dying summer cicadas, he proposed.

"And here, on this very spot, Hiroko. Your mother said yes." Sakiko concluded her story.

Sakiko stood astonished at the space behind her.

She glanced about worriedly searching for Hiroko who had vanished.

"Hiroko!"

Walking under the dappled light of the trees, Hiroko has bewitched the beauty of the garden. Lagging behind her grandmother, she failed to observe the older woman's choice of path. Wandering off track, she diverted off the tourist trail onto a hidden, disused path.

A path that she had walked before.

Whispers of a warm touch caressed her hand.

An infectious joy pulled her forward.

Apparitions of his soul walked ahead of her under the Kouyou leaves.

Phantom words called out to her…

"Come on Hiro-san," he encouraged. "Where is your sense of adventure?"

Ducking under low hanging branches, Hiroko came to a concealed bridge covered by a mossy growth. It creaked and groaned under her weight. She stepped onto a small island located in the lake.

A ghostly embrace came about her waist.

His soft voice tickled her ear as he spoke of romantic nonsense.

Spinning on her heel, Hiroko suddenly found herself standing in another moment. Nowaki stood opposite her. His enigma eyes are shining down at her with laughter and happiness. Pulling her close, they sank into the moss bed beneath their feet. He traced the contours of her face with loving reverence. Each moment is lasting a thousand years as she lay in his arms.

"Thank you, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a sigh. "Thank you for this evening; it is perfect."

Tears filled in her eyes as the memory washed over her.

She had come to Kyoto with the intention to spend quality time with her love. Nowaki had explicitly requested the time off; working several others' shifts to claim this particular time for just them. The conference was supposed to be a brief day event. The event that would see her appointed as a full professor of the literature department. The weekend, she had wanted to introduce her lover to her family. Nowaki should have sat in the audience beside her family as she delivered her research presentation. Proudly, he would congratulate her. Only, she had been a coward when the push came shove.

Tears dripped from her eyes.

They had ignored him thinking of him only as a friend.

Stealing the first chance that she had been prepared to announce her love to her family formally. Dismissed, Nowaki had browsed the delights of Kyoto alone. Her family stole her from him. Escaping late on a Sunday afternoon, she had kidnapped Nowaki seeking refuge in an isolated place.

The gardener of the Saihō-Ji Temple Complex greeted them as the sun was sinking on the autumn horizon. A kind man, he had opened a gate hurrying them in. Alone in the gardens, they had explored. Ninety minutes, the gardener had instructed. Together with privacy, they held hands without society's weight judgment.

The countdown began as the moment slipped by.

Secluded on that little island paradise, they experienced perfect moment together.

"I love you, Nowaki." Hiroko cried sinking into the mos.

Tears started spilling down her cheeks for a lost moment of the paradise of another life.

Darkness settled over the gardens.

Frantic searches of the paths were conducted looking for the missing ten-year-old girl. Sakiko stood alone helpless as the Monks and gardeners conducted their surveys of the garden's walkways. Where on earth had she disappeared too?

An old gardener brought her a cup of tea.

"That should help warm you up and soothe those nerves."

"Thank you," she smiled weakly.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." The gardener reassured Sakiko. "Will you be alright alone? I'm needed to go check one of the paths closed for renovation."

Drawing her jacket closed tightly, Sakiko nodded. Helplessly, she watched the gardener vanish into the twilight dusk armed only with his flashlight. An hour later, a group had gathered bemused at Hiroko's magical act. On the verge of calling the police, the old gardener reappeared followed by a muddy girl with a tear-stained face. Sakiko felt her heart sigh in relief.

Shakily, she descended the stairs and ran to embrace her granddaughter.

"Don't you ever, ever do that to me again!" Sakiko reprimanded the trembling girl in her arms.

"I am sorry, grandma." Hiroko sobbed, returning the hug tightly. "But I saw him. Nowaki was here!"

With her frazzled, anxious nerves; Sakiko was in no mood to indulge the selfish flights of fantasy of her granddaughter.

"Hiroko, enough!" Sakiko snapped. "He isn't real!"

Flinching back, Hiroko stared up at her grandmother in pain and resentment.

"He is real!" She bit back rebelliously. "Nowaki is a real person! I know it more than ever! Why don't you believe me? Mama did! I wish you had died instead of her!"

The sound of the smack resounded across the silent courtyard. The heel of Sakiko's hand stung as it collided with her granddaughter's cheek. Sepia eyes darkened as they glared at her. Standing tall, Hiroko walked proudly passed the crowd of monks watching the exchange without flinching.

"Was that necessary?" The elderly gardener questioned looking disappointed by the violent reaction.

"Please accept my apology on behalf of my granddaughter," Sakiko murmured refusing to answer the question. "She is a very sick child."

"Sick?" The gardener repeated surprised. "Strange maybe, not sick."

"Pardon?" Sakiko asked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Studying her for a moment, the gardener removed his hat and brushed a hand through his thinning grey hair. "Well, I must admit it was a little eerie to have a ten-year-old girl relive a moment with me that happened three years before she was ever born."

Icily fingers gripped Sakiko's heart.

"Relive? What do you mean?" Sakiko asked with a shaky voice.

The gardener looked at her directly.

"I found your granddaughter in a secluded spot in the gardens. Access is generally closed to visitors at the moment as we have been renovating the path in that corner of the gardens." He stated. "Last day, it was open was thirteen years ago. I remember that day clearly; the last people to visit that stretch of the path were two young men. One was tall with dark hair and blue eyes, the other shorter with brown hair and eyes. I was shocked when she laughed about it on the walk back with me. I don't know how on earth she knew one of those lad's name was Nowaki or how thirteen years ago, I made a joke about the destroyer that once bore the same name to him."

Staring after Hiroko's retreating form, Sakiko stood chilled and confounded to the core of her soul. How on earth could her little girl accurately known about that conversation that proceeded her birth by three years in a place she had never visited before?

Sakiko faced the terrible truth at that moment.

Hiroko's attitude was bleak on the return to Nagoya. She managed to offend everyone who crossed her path. Violently reacting to everyone. Sakiko could feel her granddaughter's anger growing. She had been validated in her eyes in Kyoto; now she was suffering. She ached for the one person in the world who had accepted her. Her mother. Seeking answers in her daughter's shrine, Sakiko begged for a way to alleviate her granddaughter's pain and atone for her guilt at letting it all happen. How could she change Hiroko's life without upsetting the balance at the temple and her marriage?

The dutiful wife of the high priest had a powerful card to gamble: divorce.

Sakiko did not play this hand lightly; she had much to lose too. Sharp, heated words were exchanged that day, Sakiko laid down the new game rules. Her husband surveyed her in silence, with a dismissing nod he agreed to her terms. Hiroko's freedom was bought at a terrible price. Sakiko slipped into the bleak bedroom of her granddaughter. Hiroko watched warily as her grandmother approached her with a tray of juice and medicine.

"Roko-chan," her grandmother said softly. "I need you act very grown up."

Curiosity peaked in her granddaughter's eyes. "Why?"

"Because I believe you," Sakiko announced honestly.

Hiroko listened cautiously to the elder woman's instructions.

Bury it deep.

Never speak of him again.

Holding her sobbing granddaughter, Sakiko's heart broke for the girl she held in her arms who had to endure so much already. The transformation took two years. Two years of acting meek, submissive and holding her tongue. Eventually, the psychologists and doctors declared her mentally fit. The declaration was received with a sigh of relief for all those attached to the Okiaya and Komori clan. Hiroko was permitted to return to school and granted reasonable freedoms of a twelve-year-old girl.

This life was all just an act for her from this moment onwards.

For living any life would be empty until she found her Nowaki.

(To Be Continued)


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** **In This Life**

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Warning: Please be aware this story is based on a character death and that character being reborn as a different individual.**

 **This means the relationship at the heart of this story will be Hiroki x Nowaki, but Hiroki's soul will be reborn in an original character.**

 **This story will have Nowaki x OC relationship going forward.**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

* * *

 **Part 5: You're Not Alone (Astr** **æ** **a)**

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart

and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."

~ Shania Twain ~

Childhood is a journey of experiences that help establish and define our sense of identity and expression of self. Testing who we are comes into play in our teenage years, when we experiment to firm up our understanding of the person we are evolving to be. There is a confusing moment in puberty we all feel adrift or have a crisis with our identity. As the hormonal onslaught of change transforms our bodies, most feel awkward moments in the prison of puberty when there is a crisis with our character.

In the innocence of childhood, Komori Hiroko had rarely felt any conflict between herself and memories she recalled. She felt as if her past self-was a kindred spirit most of her childhood. There was a mutual love of books, the beauty of words and preferred the company of books to people. Later, she would realise the burden of recalling her past life denied her the full experience of childhood as she was isolated until her father took legal action to force the Komori to send her to school. Her education was not neglected, in fact, she had been more advanced than many of her peers at the age of thirteen, but her isolation due to the 'shameful madness' as her grandfather had phased it she lacked essential social skills. For a long time after her mother's death, her only companions had been her ever-increasing library, her cousins, and pets.

Her identity crisis started as she approached her teens.

While dealing with the typical teenage anxiety, Hiroko found herself dealing with a crisis of the soul.

Inwardly, she realised there had always been a conflict going on inside her. As if, part of her soul was battling her heart. At first, it was conflicts of interests. Hiroko was gifted with her ability to draw and paint. Her skill at portraits was exceptional with the degree of realism she could accomplish. She only needed to see a person once to replicate their likeliness. It was crafted from the numerous times she sketched Nowaki absentmindedly in her notebooks. Even when she could not speak of him, she could always draw him.

When she lost herself in sketching, there was something that came alive inside of her. Deep in her heart, she felt this was uniquely her. Her other great love of books and words sometimes felt like a piece of a jigsaw that did not quite fit. When she was offered a treat of watercolors or a book, she felt something forced her to say a book from deep in her soul when she would have much preferred the paints.

How could she balance the person she was before with the person who she could be?

What if her heart wanted more in this life than just clinging to the dream of Nowaki?

The thought of more scared her but thrilled her.

As her body started to develop more feminine aspects and desires, the crisis between her heart and soul spiraled. At times, she felt incredibly out of place as a girl, especially as her curves developed. Naturally, she felt more boyish than girlie. When the awareness of her sexuality dawned, it scared her genuinely. Noticing good looking boys that made her brain and body react to the disgust of her soul and heart. She felt deeply the sense of betrayal each time her mind acknowledged the cute guy in the grocery store or the beautiful celebrity or anime character.

The other alarming factor was the changes in her physical body. In the confusing limbo of sleep and waking, she felt the heavy weight on her chest and panicked. She would bolt up her mind filled with the worry man-boobs because she was becoming fat and losing Nowaki. Only to calm as her hands clambered across her body and consciousness of where she was dawned. Or the times, she had reached down to scratch in her sleep only to wake in panic something from her anatomy was missing.

These strange feeling grew into the awareness that she might not have been a girl. Her earlier recollections had missed this aspect. Considering her blinding love for Nowaki, the knowledge she was possible a man in her past life was a disorienting at first. It stressed her out for a little while. The issue wasn't the boy love or the possibility she might have been gay as her past self; it was the despair that Nowaki might not ever love her as a girl.

This was a burden she had to face alone.

It would have been a more natural path to follow if she had chosen to erase Nowaki from her mind completely. As she grew into a teenager, she remembered what her father had read to her as a small child about children born with memories of another life. When they grew up and established their sense of self-eroding away at who they had been to become who they should be, they forgot. She had vowed never forget. The burden of remembering cost her dearly. The rebellious teenager inside her wished to be rid of the gravity of the memories that seemed to oppress and isolate her.

At the age of thirteen, her grandfather relented and allowed her grandmother to return her to the school system. On the strict condition, she would go to the school her youngest aunt Atkemi taught at. Nagoya Women's University had been educating the Okiaya women for three generations and had ties to its founders. With her links to the school and sharp mind, Hiroko had quickly passed the entrance exam to study at the Junior High school attached to the university. Her family had the aspiration she could study there right through to the university in the future as her grandmother, mother and aunts had done before her.

Taking that hesitant first step across the threshold of her middle school classroom, Hiroko wondered who she ought to be in this new world. Three other pupils excitedly ran passed her. How carefree those girls seemed to her as they milled around chatting and giggling. Would she be like that without Nowaki?

Glancing at the board, she saw her seat was based by the window for the first semester. Outside a sea of delicate pinks waved in the breeze as the sakura trees were in full blossom. She would have a pretty view for the next weeks as she settled into this new world. Six years of school rolled out like a wide-open road in front of her. She was not sure what she was going to do at the end of that. Her soul desperately wanted to search the world looking for her beloved Nowaki. Her heart was waging war for living her own life.

Would this be the rest of her life?

Two conflicting parts of her battling for control of the past, present and future.

Hiroko walked to her desk ignoring the looks of her classmates and the gestures to greet her. All she wanted was to unpack her bag and settle into her new seat. A few empty rows of desks surrounded her desk. Those who would be sitting next to her likely knew each from elementary school. Hopefully, they would leave her alone to brood over how to contend with the conflictions she felt inside about being here in school and being a teenager.

Part of her wished she remembered more of her past life.

Knowing how she had survived her first round of being a teenager would be a perk.

The door opened to admit a short silver-haired man followed by a smiling young woman.

"Please take your seats, everyone."

Hiroko groaned lowering her head to the desk.

Fate had decided to place her in her aunt's class she realised as the vice-principal introduced the class teacher. Her aunt stood beside the vice-principal of the school formerly introducing herself. Had her aunt engineered this? At least, she would only be her homeroom and Business studies teacher. As her aunt read out everyone's names to call morning attendance, Hiroko prepared herself. As her name was read out, all eyes of the class swung towards her and widened. If she had not been a loner, she would have tried to figure out which of her classmates were considering cosying up to her to get into their teacher's graces and the others who had just labeled her as trouble.

She did not care at this point she had her agenda is here.

At the end of the first week of school, her classmates had started to whisper about her cold, aloof demeanor. Hiroko felt herself freeze when she heard the phrase 'Tsundere' muttered behind her back in shoe locker room. She was changing into her school shoes for her converse to walk home one afternoon when she overheard the girls of her class talking about her.

The other girls from her class had not seen her.

"I have thought of the perfect prank to pull on Tsundere." A girl's voice said with delight.

"Wait, isn't this going a bit far?" Another girl asked. "I don't want to get in trouble."

"Huh? I thought you thought she was cold and up herself as we do."

"I do." A voice squeaked back. "But Komori-san is the niece of Komori-sensei."

Hiroko froze at the mention of her aunt's name.

The girls were in her class.

Stamping loudly, she forced her shoe on.

Emerging from the locker, she glared at the girls with a demonic face that mirrored that look which had struck fear to university students that endured the Demon Kamijou lectures thirteen years before. The girls would shiver at the thought of the look hellion look that chilled them to the core. The look was enough to scare them off the threat just made sure Hiroko was never their target in the future.

"Let me say this once," she growled low and fiercely. "If you ever attempt to bully me in the future, you will be scrubbing floors for the rest of your lives as I will get you expelled so fast you will have burn marks on your arse."

A week later, the popular kids had moved onto a new target.

She developed a reputation as the cold, loner of the class.

To be honest, Hiroko preferred it that way.

Other voices only made it harder to cope with the mystifying morass at her core.

Halfway through her first semester at junior high, a transfer student arrived that would change everything. Amaya Reina would become like a sister, her best friend, and trusted confidant. Amaya Reina arrived as a painfully shy girl who stood behind her aunt at the front of the class. Turquoise blue eyes peeked out from silvery blond hair nervously flickering around the sea of faces.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" Her aunt instructed her new pupil.

"Kon'nichiwa." Amaya Reina said looking at the floor as she spoke. "I'm Amaya Reina. I moved here with my family last week from the United States. I look forward to being friends."

Hiroko remembered frowning as the spoken words flowed around her.

Every word felt forced and rehearsed.

Hiroko felt a stirring of sympathy for the girl standing singled out in the front of the class.

Dismissed by the teacher, Amaya took a seat a few desks away from her by the window. Flipping silky light strands of blond hair over her shoulder as she sat staring down as if afraid to look up. For the whole day, she stared down at the desk and her books. Amaya flinched as classmates approached her desk for the first time. She was a little weary and distant with everyone, avoiding looking anyone in the face.

During class, Amaya said almost nothing and ventured few answers. To be in the first class of the year though, Amaya had to have a studious mind or lots of money to fund promotion to the top of the year. Grades weren't everything in this world if you daddy had a big cheque book. The class was made up of the pupils of the highest grades and capacities that had been admitted to the junior high school of Nagoya Women's University.

Opening her lunch, Hiroko took her book out of her bag and started to pretend to read.

Overtly over the pages of her book, she spied on her classmates' interactions.

A few of the other approached Amaya with a quick hello and goodbye. She was foreign to them. Her Japanese was a bit formal but expected as it was her second language. Amaya Reina was the daughter of a Japanese diplomat who had returned to Japan after his affair with an American journalist went sour. Reina inherited her mother's Nordic looks with pale blond hair and exotic turquoise eyes. After her mother walked out after her birth, Reina had been brought to the very insularly as her father jumped around the world with his world. All the life she had stood out for being different in the wrong way. Later in life, her exotic beauty would be an asset, but children can be cruel creatures.

After a few days observation of the new girl, she realised the rest of their classmates had formed their opinions of the blond, blue-eyed girl. Amaya ate her lunch alone in the gardens of the school. She walked in the company of teachers more at ease with adults than peers of her age. She made no more efforts to befriend the others in their class. No doubt she heard the same cruel whispers that Hiroko did.

Hiroko's inner voice told her not to get involved.

However, her involvement was forced when she walked into the middle of a vicious altercation. This would be the foundation of their friendship when Hiroko found she could not look the other way as Amaya was persecuted by several boisterous bullies. The bullies found to their misfortune, Komori Hiroko would not tolerate their antics when she stumbled into trouble.

Hiroko stared in horror at the scene before her.

Her three classmates stared back her shocked at being caught.

The teary, frightened aqua eyes of Amaya Reina flickered to her face pleading for help.

Amaya was pinned against the school building wall held in place by two of Ito's cronies. Ito stood brandishing a shiny pair of scissors that looked sinisterly sharp. Around the girls' feet were the straggly cut locks of silvery blond hair that belonged to Amaya. Her previous long hair now fell untidily around her teary face in a drastic short cut bob. Hiroko felt conflicted about what to do next.

At her core was a crisis of voices.

Something in her soul whispered to her to walk away this was not her fight.

As often did, when that part of her awoke that felt alien in her core, a memory flickered in her mind's eye. There was an overwhelming feeling of regret, guilt and self-loathing that washed over her. As if she had stood in this very spot before and walked away.

The first to recover her voice was her year's resident bully, Ito. While a popular, bright and beautiful curvy girl, underneath was a calculating and manipulative shrew. This was the girl and her cronies that she had scared off with her demon face and connections to a teacher at the start of the year.

"Back off Komori, this isn't any of your business," Ito said standing up tall attempting to look threatening.

"I agree," Hiroko replied with a fake smile to throw the other girl off-guard while secretly snapping a picture on her phone. "How you treat classmates is none of my business."

Thank god, she always kept her smartphone on silent in school.

It made taking sly pictures easy as evidence or leverage.

Meanwhile, the three girls exchanged taken aback looks between them at her admission.

Amaya seemed to go limp in the hands of her capturers realising rescue was not coming.

Ito replied with a harsh gurgle of laughter that caused her victim to flinch.

"Jeez, Komori," Ito said with a snort. "You are a cold fish."

The other girls relaxed and laughed following their leader.

Gritting her teeth, she fought down the bubble of anger she felt at the insult.

Hiroko felt her palm became sweaty as she attached the image to a message and clicked send.

 _But…it is my aunt's business_ ; she inwardly thought as the message fired off.

She hoped the image gave enough clue to her location so her aunt would come quickly. She needed to create a distraction to buy time without escalating the situation. This could quickly only end with her being more of a target. All she wanted to do was survive middle school with as little drama as possible. She had plenty to burden outside of school than getting caught up in the drama of middle school mind games and social politics. She resigned herself though she might have to buy time in this incidence if her aunt was going to appear before more damage could be done to Amaya.

Shoving her phone into her bag, Hiroko retorted to the insult realising it might be the only way to buy time. "How the hell would you know?"

The laughter stilled.

Her response caught their attention as two confused faces looked back towards her. The sidekicks of the group released Amaya and stepped closer to their leader acting like they were drone bees buzzing around the Queen bee, Ito. Amaya was dropped and fell straight on her button on the floor with a squeak of pain. The drone bees' names were Yukimura, and the other was Fukui, if she remembered right, from class 2 but an elementary school friend of Ito.

Yukimura glanced nervously at Ito mouthing. "Remember her aunt is a teacher."

Ito sent an evil look to her companion irritated at the reminder.

"You're right," Ito replied casting an evil look to her. "We are just classmates, but not in the same social circle, so I don't know you at all. I am surprised if anyone in our class does though you seem to consider us far beneath you."

In between the three girls' forms, she could see the approaching figure of her aunt. The other girls had not seen the approaching teacher. Puffing themselves up to look bigger and threatening, they were distracted while trying to exert control over the situation. While there was three against one, Hiroko was convinced her three classmates still felt a sliver of vulnerability facing off with her. No doubt due to her aunt's status of a teacher in the school and her cold reputation.

"Run along, Komori," Yukimura said stepping forward. "This isn't any of your business."

"Yeah, you best be heading off," Fukui suggested folding her arms in a threatening gesture.

Hiroko just shook her head and smiled.

Idiots.

The timing of their performance could not have been timed better.

"Komori-sensei!" Amaya squeaked from the floor where she was still sitting tearfully.

Ito spun on her heel to face her aunt perfectly timed arrival.

Her aunt's hazel brown eyes took less than a second to survey the scene before her.

Amaya's crying figure sprawled on the floor surrounded by diced icy blond hair.

Scratch marks on Yukimura and Fukui arms were Amaya had tried to fight back.

Ito crumbling façade of superiority.

A mere second was it took for her aunt to draw the right conclusion.

Ito and Yukimura had the sense at least to stay quiet at the arrival of her aunt's arrival. Fukui gave the game way under the pressure of the Komori glare. She wanted to laugh at the filthy look that Ito gave Fukui as she spilled the beans.

"We were just joking around," Fukui splurged incriminating herself with the other two girls. "Amaya cut her hair."

"Really?" Her aunt asked incredulously at the declaration from her pupil. "She just cut her hair like that for no reason?"

"Yes, Komori-sensei," Fukui replied with a dumb look of relief.

Ito whipped out her hand to hit the back of Fukui's head. "Shut up, Baka!"

"You three best march straight to the principal's office to do some explaining with me." Her aunt ordered unimpressed.

Protests quickly arose from the incriminated three girls.

As her aunt herded the three bullies down the hall, she turned to Hiroko. "Please, can you take Amaya-san to the nurse's office. I will be there to hear her side of the story once I have dealt with these three."

The shy Amaya Reina started following her like a puppy from that day.

At first, the other girl dogging her every step irritated her. Eventually, she just ignored the silent shadow that followed her around the school. Perhaps Amaya followed her for protection. The other girl spoke very little to her in the course of the next couple of weeks. She would merely bring her lunch to Hiroko's desk and sit reading a book copying her. Amaya never asked questions or pestered her beyond walking alongside or sitting next to her.

It was after another night of vivid dreaming while sketching in art club, Hiroko felt someone approach her from behind. Looking up over her shoulder, she found herself gazing back into the aqua eyes of Amaya who studied her sketch with appreciative eyes clinging to every line. Amaya usually did not stay for any afternoon clubs; she left eagerly every day at the chime of the last bell to be collected by her driver ever since that episode with the bullies.

"You are very talented," Amaya said with a hint of jealousy to her. "I didn't know you could draw like that Komori-san."

"Thanks."

"Did you draw that from memory?" Amaya continued the conversation not picking up on Hiroko's leave me alone vibes.

"Yes."

"Subarashīdesu!" The blond girl clapped in amazement. "I wish I could draw like that. I desperately want to be a manga artist, but I have no skill drawing people plucked from my memory as you do!"

Placing her pencil back in her packet, Hiroko wondered want to do. Should she continue sketching away or pretend she needed to meet her aunt and hurry home for homework or some other dull excuse.

"Who is he?" Amaya asked her with a smile happy at the growing exchange.

Never speak of him had been her grandmother's order.

For nearly five years, she had not spoken a word of him to anyone. Secretly, she continued to sketch him and write detailed descriptions of her memories and dreams that were hidden in a secret place concealed beneath the floorboards of her bedroom. Nowaki was a heavy burden she carried alone in her heart out of aberrant trepidation that she could be imprisoned her deviant spirit again. This conversation was over she decided, Amaya was poking her nose into the business she did not want to share with anyone.

"No one," Hiroko replied starting to pack up her pencils. "I should probably head home it is getting late."

"Erm, would you like to come to my house then?" Amaya rushed in front of her as she picked up her art case and school bag.

Hiroko backed up a step feeling cornered, she replied sharply. "What the hell do you want from me?"

Amaya's eyes widened for a moment in surprise.

"I want to be your friend, Komori-san," Amaya replied hesitantly.

At least, she didn't cry, Hiroko thought thankfully.

"Why do you want to my friend then?" Hiroko replied setting down her art case to cross her arms. "If it is misplaced hero worship, I can tell you are off the hook."

Aqua blue eyes studied her for a moment.

The look Amaya give her seem to look right into her soul.

Hiroko quickly picked up her bag and case to bolt for the door as the gaze became uncomfortable.

"You always seem to be carrying the weight of the world with you," Amaya said as she reached for the door handle. "You always seem like you are lost and alone. I wanted to be your friend because I thought maybe we would understand each other better than the idiots in our class."

Well, she agreed on the point of the idiots in their class that just cared about fashion and boys.

"I would need to let my grandparents know where I was going." Hiroko found herself replying.

Turning she saw the incredible sheer delight of the other girls at accepting the invite.

Amaya's home was a magnificent modern building that had been commissioned by her father for his return to Japan. Everything was brand new from the ground up. Dazzling floor to ceiling windows allowed light to flood into every corner and crevice of each room. Hiroko half listened to Amaya as she described her home in the car ride to her house that was based on the edge of the city close to the best golf course in the county.

The household staff greeted them as they entered Amaya's home.

She introduced them to her father's household staff, a married American couple, the Douglas's who had come back to Japan with her father after being in his employment in the United States for eight years. The man, Mr. Douglas was her father's assistant and right-hand man. He had driven them from their school to Amaya's home. He vanished into her father's study as soon as they were through the door mentioning something about the boss's business to sort out. The woman she introduced was Mrs. Douglas, the housekeeper, and her Au Pair. Mrs. Douglas was a middle-aged lady with the greying brown hair, watery blue eyes, a slightly overweight figure and overly friendly countenance that westerners seemed to have.

"Welcome home, Re-chan." Mrs. Douglas said hugging Amaya. "How was school?"

"Today was the best day yet, Mrs. D," Amaya said returning the hug warmly. "Look, I even brought my first friend home. This is Komori Hiroko."

The older woman looked up in surprise at the sight of Hiroko standing by the door.

"Is this the Hiroko who frightened off those bullies you told us about?" The older woman asked incredulously.

"Yes!" Amaya replied clapping excitedly.

By the time she realised what was about to happen, there was no escaping it.

Hiroko squirmed uncomfortably in the hold of the larger woman. Mrs. Douglas hugged the breath from her lungs as she invaded her personal space wittering on about thanks for protecting her baby and something about being incredibly grateful for such a good friend to her Re-chan.

"Now you girls go upstairs, I will bring you some snacks to you in a minute."

Hiroko followed Amaya up the stairs in the big house that made the traditional home of the temple look small and pokey. Amaya leads her to a large bedroom that easily housed a queen size bed, bookshelves, a desk and a small sofa. It even boosted an ensuite shower room in the American style. Eagerly, Amaya did the whirlwind tour of the room showing off her collection of fiction and a bookcase of the manga. Hiroko grimaced at the examples of work she pulled out of her own.

Amaya had not been lying when she claimed to be a dreadful artist!

A voice from below called out to Amaya.

"That's my father," Amaya gushed excitedly. "I will be right back, Komori."

Standing in Amaya's room alone, Hiroko browsed along the bookshelves noticing an impressive amount of English titles. While her English was to a good standard, she suspected that Amaya was fluent based on the complex nature of the story plots of these books. Interesting to know, there were quite a few books Hiroko struggled to purchase with her grandfather's ban on unnecessary materialistic technology in his household. Amaya had paperbacks of several of those titles she could see from her browsing. Maybe being acquaintances with Amaya would have some benefits after all.

Amaya re-entered her bedroom carrying a tray of lemonade and biscuits.

"Mrs. Douglas sent us some snacks up," Amaya said with a smile bringing the tray to rest on the table beside the sofa.

"You have a wonderful library," Hiroko said appreciating the collection of books.

"You can borrow any of the books if you like," Amaya said looking up from placing the tray on the table. "Do you read any manga?"

"Hmm, not really. I have not had a chance to try it to be honest." She replied picking up a biscuit. "My grandfather would not approve."

"You mentioned your grandparents before do you live with them?"

The girls ended up sitting together on Amaya's bed talking about their childhoods. Hiroko kept her story at a high level, but it was clear that the other girl wanted more details. Hiroko refrained from sharing the more intimate details of her home-schooled years. Politely Amaya skirted round asking too many awkward questions on the topic. By the end of the evening, Hiroko had started to relax with Amaya's company. The blond girl was a bit quirky but excited to talk to.

Slowly out of habit, she started to spend more time with Amaya. The platinum blond ended up sitting next to her after the classroom seat swap after the holidays. Random visits to each other's houses became meeting up at weekends to going for lunch, shopping or the cinema. As the causal friendship grew closer, the awkward conversations became full of laughter and sharing.

Outwardly, their personalities were very different. Inside Hiroko found Amaya to be very like her. She was a bookworm to the core and closet otaku. She had plenty of books, games, anime, and manga stuffed away at her house to sink a ship. Amaya had more clothes than any other person that Hiroko knew, but it worked out as they were the same size in most things.

One night, late in their first year of junior, Amaya asked her to come for a sleepover for her birthday. While at home, there was resistance to the idea at first, Hiroko found her grandmother brought her draconian grandfather round with help from her aunt, Atkemi. Amaya's father even came to the temple to meet with her grandfather to give his assurances the girls would be under strict supervision in the household at all times. Hiroko watched with Amaya on the staircase of the Okiaya house in shock as her grandfather came out of the chashitsu room with Amaya's father with a smile on his face. The two men had greeted each other and instantly bonded in their strict adherence to the traditional formalness that was expected of everyone by her grandfather.

Amaya's father was a public servant with a bright political career ahead of him. His policies were undoubtedly akin to the philosophy of her grandfather's traditional old fashion ways. After observing the conventional niceties of a tea ceremony, the two men had spoken at length of the circumstances of the invitation which had a lead on to a more detailed discussion of the two teenagers involved.

"Hiroko," her grandfather summoned her to him with a wave as he bid Amaya's father farewell after two hours of talking. "I have given my consent for you to stay at Amaya-san home for your friend's birthday next week."

"Furthermore, Amaya has given his blessing for us to host Reina for the new year." Her grandfather informed as he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his Chihaya robe. "Her father has plans to be in Tokyo for the emperor's birthday so won't be able to spend it with his daughter, so I have offered our home to Reina for the celebrations."

Amaya's birthday party was a simple affair. Mrs. Douglas ordered pizza for them to devour whilst watching movies and anime. Hiroko was happy to defer choices of what games they played or what they watched on the large screen television to the birthday girl. She picked off the toppings she did not like without complaint and secretly in order not to upset her friend. Amaya was clearly having fun dancing around like a lunatic and singing to the pop songs on the video game. Hiroko warbled through a few songs blushing to her roots as Reina laughed hysterically at her terrible singing voice.

Amaya happily chatted over most of the movies and anime episodes that played in the background. Hiroko had never allowed by her grandparents to indulge in watching many movies, television series or anime. Her grandfather flatly refused to allow a television in the house. The broadband connection was only to the main office in the house; WIFI was absolutely banned so she could not watch videos on her laptop at home which was strictly for homework in her grandfather's eyes. She only had that because her aunt had put her foot down saying a typewriter was not sufficient enough for a teenager going into junior high in the twenty-first century. This was a rare night of indulgence for her.

"This is the last anime series I promise," Amaya said selecting the next video to play.

Rubbing her eyes, she knew she would probably fall asleep during this episode as it was nearly midnight. As the music of

"Luka is so hot," Amaya signed as a tall, handsome demon strolled onto the screen. "I wish love ever-lasting that even defied death was real."

"Is he the demon?" Hiroko asked unsure about which character was who as the intro song ended.

"Yeah, I love a bad looking boy." Amaya giggled. "Are there any boys you like?"

"Not really," Hiroko replied watching the battles unfold on the screen.

"What about the guy you were sketching?"

"That was no one," she lied.

Eventually, Amaya was engrossed in the show again moving off the topic of boys.

Hiroko was grateful the topic moved on.

How was she supposed to talk to another girl about Nowaki the love she had never met?

Twenty-four episodes later, Hiroko lay in the guest futon as she tumultuously tossed and turned as her mind was in a state of disorder and crisis. The anime had unsettled her with the story plot of rebirth and love that survived across the divide mixed in with some fantasy elements. Her soul was clamoring for attention as a surge of emotions and flashbacks assaulted her consciousness. She lay in the darkness she regretted accepting the invitation to the sleepover. If she had been in the secure haven of her bedroom, she could have coped. She had dealt for so long alone as the memories plagued her.

"Amaya, are you awake?" She asked softly.

"Hmm, I have told you can call me Re-chan." The aqua eyed girl replied sleepily from her bed.

"Re-chan, do you believe in rebirth like in the anime?" She asked hesitantly.

There was a rustle of covers as Reina moved to peer over the edge of the bed.

"I guess I do," Reina replied with a thoughtful tone. "Wouldn't it be amazing to have lived before and had a different life in another time? What about you Hiro-chan?"

"I told you not to call me that," Hiroko answered her sharply. She hated when people called her that. She was not sure why. Something from the past she could not recall, something that only Nowaki could do.

"I am sorry." The blond girl replied biting her lip.

"My nickname is Roko-chan," Hiroko said softly looking up into those teary aqua eyes that suddenly flared with delight. "My father was Hiroeki. It feels weird to be Hiro when my mum called him."

"So Roko-chan, do you believe in past lives?"

Hiroko turned to look up at the other girl who lay on the bed kicking her feet in the air.

"Would you believe me I said I remembered living another life?" She asked said feeling the weight of years of denial lift off her shoulders.

"Yes, I would Roko-chan," Reina replied softly. "You're a sincere, upfront person. I know you would not lie to me over something like that."

Tears burst forward from Hiroko's eyes as Reina accepted her words. The story spilled out of her like a tsunami of words and emotions. Partway through the story, Reina moved from the bed to pull Hiroko into a comforting embrace. She stroked Hiroko's back the remainder of the story of her past life and situation at home in her current life.

"You know, we could start looking for Nowaki together," Reina suggested glancing over at her computer as she finished recounting her story. "Your grandparents would never find out if we do our research here."

Could they do it?

Hiroko followed Reina's gaze to the computer. Could two teenage girls succeed where her father had failed? The chances were slim. Nowaki could even be moldering in the ground by now. She had no idea if he had survived his suicide attempt. No, she thought. The little voice inside her soul knew deep down he was alive. The red string of fate that bound her to Nowaki hummed energetically full of life. She knew he was still out there for her to find if she only wished it.

"How would I explain it?" Hiroko asked her friend.

"We could pretend we are creating a manga together," Reina said leaping off her bed grabbing one of her notebooks.

"I don't think my grandfather would approve of that."

"Maybe not, but I am a terrible artist, but I have great ideas," Reina smiled back. "You could say you are teaching me how to draw so I can pursue my career aspirations as a manga artist."

"I thought your father disapproved of that," Hiroko laughed aloud.

"He does, but your grandparents don't know that." Reina chimed in.

For every reason she could think of Reina came up with an answer that eroding away all her misgivings.

"Alright then," Hiroko replied with a smile.

"It's a secret between us," Reina promised to hold her hand. "I promise we are going to find him."

(To Be Continued)


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

 **Part 6: Point of No Return (Starset)**

"There is a point at which everything becomes simple

and there is no longer any question of choice,

because all you have staked will be lost if you look back.

Life's point of no return."

~ Dag Hammarskjold ~

 _She groaned in her sleep at the delicious tingles shocking her system. As soft, warm kisses traced down her neck, she twisted in his hold trying to escape. Each caress was torture. Soft, gentle strokes brushed against her skin reach from her throat to the secret heart of her sex._

 _Her hot naked flesh brushed against the rough fabric of his clothes. Her fingers are gripping the material of the doctor's coat like a life jacket, as she drowned in his desire. Blue eyes glinted with lust as he consumed her._

 _Her breaths became in short puffs of air._

 _Moans of excitement escaped her lips._

 _He teased and nipped at the column of her throat, driving her wild with ecstasy. Fingers toyed with her body like a fine-tuned musical instrument developing a crescendo of pleasure within her. She could feel the tightening coil within her core as the play reached the pinnacle of her limits. Her body shattered into a million pieces as she clung to the man she loved with all her soul._

 _"Nowaki!" She gasped, arching beneath his muscular, hard body._

 _He chuckled at her need._

 _Lips met in a dominating, demanding kiss._

 _How he was going to regret this arousing mockery!_

DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP!

Bolting up from her futon, eighteen-year-old, Komori Hiroko awoke from the throws of her exquisite dream. Her body quivered with the physical reactions of desire. She sat bewildered, as she took in the pale morning light. Glancing to her empty side of her double bed, her hand reached out for the ghost who moments ago inhabited that space. The coldness of the sheet made her heart ache with emptiness.

The hellish beep of the morning alarm clock began its ritualistic repeat.

A thread of anguish peaked in her blood.

Angrily thumping the alarm clock, she glared at the inanimate object with zealous loathing.

How dare it interrupt such magnificent diverting dream! With a forlorn sigh, she sank back into her pillow, closing her eyes she attempted to relish a little more of the dizzying sensations coursing through her veins. She endeavored to memorise every delight of the dream; his touch, smell and that piercing look of desire that haunted his eyes. The longing in her heart to return to that blissful moment where he was real.

Bounding up from her bed, she grabbed her sketchpad and pencils desperately clinging to the memory of that look. Hanging above her desk were hundreds of sketch pads filled with drawings that she had composed over the years. None of them ever seemed to appear quite right. The memory was slipping away into her subconscious beyond the reaches of the realms of reality, as Hiroko laid down her pencil. Another face of Nowaki stared up from the page; a devilishly handsome man with the ability to turn women to puddles with those dark, deep blue eyes.

Eyes you could drown in, Hiroko thought to herself.

The dreams had started in the early hours of the morning since she reached maturity. She had always dreamed of Nowaki – these dreams had been different. Invoking new depths of sensation and longing in her body than the dreams of Nowaki playing with her. Powerful dreams that had tumbled her world into chaos and caused her years of embarrassment. No dream described by any of her classmates inspired by actors, pop stars or the local high school hottie could relate to the heat of hers. No man could rival the intensity of sensation; hearing the awkward tales of her friends, Hiroko had vowed to never tangle with boys. Her tastes had been fashioned by the man who kissed her like she was precious and was driven consumed to possess every fiber of her being.

That memory was her lifebuoy in the confusing sea of hormones of her teens.

Placing her sketchpad back on her art stand, she reached to gather up her journal and returned to the sanctuary of her futon. Pages of scrawling writing soon flowed as she recorded the faded delights of her dream. The shelves over her desk-station were heavy with notebooks and sketchpads full of daydreams from the last eight years. Finishing her entry, Hiroko sighed in frustration. She was tired of waiting.

In a childish move, she tossed her pillow across the room.

The undignified squawk her Persian cat rang out as the offending cushion sailed neatly into the cat's basket. Squinting open one eye, Hiroko studied her ten-year-old fluff ball. Bakihiko, she thought, dragging the blanket over her head. He had no idea want a beautiful dream she had been experiencing. The grey hair cat elegantly leaped upon her futon, bristling his whiskers before curling up into a ball at her feet. His behavior peevishly annoyed her grandfather, who was master of the house before the cat. Hiroko always wondered why she had chosen to name him Akihiko, after her favourite author. Dimly, the cat remaindered her of someone who childishly took from others without a care. Oddly, she knew no one who resembled that characteristic in her life.

From below came the stirring sounds of the household waking. Tickling the head of her peeved companion, Hiroko smiled as she rose from her futon bed to face the day. Hovering at her ensuite door, she smiled as she surveyed the nearly empty room and collection of sealed packing boxes.

Moving over to her calendar on the wall, she struck off another day of the month.

She had been waiting for this day…

The day, she was graduating high school…

Today, she was at the point of no return…

In just a few short weeks, she was going to university in Toyko.

Grabbing her seifuku as she hurried to her ensuite to prepare the day ahead.

Standing in her stiff seifuku, starched especially for the occasion, she faced the daunting gates of her last day in adolescence. Today, she would be leaving Nagoya Women's University Senior High, as the graduating honors student who had received offers from prestigious institutions across Japan. Swallowing hard, she breathed deeply trying to appease the sickening feeling her stomach. She could not falter here. On this precipice, she stood facing all the difficulties, doubts and despairs that had sought to thwart her journey finally at the crossroad that would allow her to freedom to follow her dreams.

If she hesitated, she would fail.

Setting her resolve, Hiroko recited her mission: collect her diploma. The piece of paper that would bring honour to her family, allow her to be recognized as the esteemed, gracious young woman and secure her freedom.

A warm hand gently squeezed her tense shoulder. Casting a sideways glance over her shoulder, Hiroko met the gentle turquoise gaze of her best friend, Amaya Reina. The soft spring breeze tussled the pink sakura blossoms ahead bring a cascade of pink snow drifting down over them. Hiroko smiled as she remembered the gloriously happy moments they had shared in the last few years being like sisters; swapping secrets, cultivating each other's dreams and sharing each other's darkest pains.

"Beautiful." Smiling, Reina whispered reaching up to brush stray petals out of her hair.

Under the drifting blossoms, Hiroko could not help but feel an old ache in her heavy heart. Twelve years on, he was still missing from her life. Closing her eyes, she thought of those enigmatic blue eyes filled with adoration that haunted her dreams. Casting her eyes to the checkerboard sky of white and azure, she felt the familiar stabbing pain of longing.

Now, she had a chance to find him.

He was out there somewhere waiting for her.

An old persistent apprehension surfaced in her mind.

Was she doing the right thing going to Tokyo for university?

Was it time to lay this apparition to rest?

She ought to seek a life of logic and rational thought; focus on getting a good university education that would set her on a path to a good career, family, and fulfillment. Staring down the tree-lined avenue, she felt tears prickle in her eyes. Why did she think she was squandering precious time courting these doubts?

"Still facing those same old doubts?" Reina asked noticing her pained look.

Hiroko nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment as her eyes threatened to tear up.

"Nearly there," Reina whispered to her. "In a few short weeks, we are going to be living in Toyko free from this shit hole with a whole new world of possibilities. Not to mention the hot guys you promised me. Nowaki is going to have a hot mate for me to drool over."

Hiroko could not help but laugh.

Reina always knew the right words to cheer her up.

Over the last five years, their friendship had gone from strength to strength. Hiroko felt Reina was more a sister than just her best friend. Since entering high school, they had made other friends slowly, but they were the lynchpin of their social group.

There was nothing they could not share with one another. Reina had been there for her every step along this journey. They had decided to take this road together. Reina had been the one who ever summer came up with excuses for them to spend every day together tracing back leads and looking for clues. Reina had spent several days compiling a list of every road traffic accident death in Toyko for the twenty years before her birth for both men and women. Reina had gotten her father's aid to download a list of every living person with Nowaki in their name in Japan then spent the whole night reading the file to her in case it sparked any recognition.

Reina had come up with the plan to move to Tokyo together, code name the great Nowaki hunt.

Reina hugged her tightly. "Come on; we should head to the ceremony."

"Yes, I can't be late for my speech."

"Exactly! You are today's leading lady, show off." Reina said releasing her. " Now, focus on not falling flat on your ass first as you walk across the stage."

"That a prophecy for the next hour?" Hiroko said shoving her best friend's shoulder playfully.

"Nah," Reina's turquoise danced playfully. "Just a suggestion of how to keep it interesting."

Looking up at the grey school building the loomed as they approached, Hiroko fixed a determined look in her eyes and summoned her courage. Clutching her satchel closer like a shield, her other hand she held out to the turquoise-eyed girl at her side with a smile. Together they took their first steps across the threshold into adulthood. Crossing the school grounds, they elicited looks from staff and students alike. Hiroko felt a stab of intimidation and expectation as they reached the shoe lockers. Slipping off her shoes, she began to recite her speech. Nerves were getting the better of her. Gritting her teeth, she stood eyes closed gathering her thoughts. Holding her head high, alluding confidence and poise, she entered the school.

Graduation was a blur to Hiroko.

As her high school class tossed their cap, Hiroko felt hers soar with hope.

Murmuring the words to herself, "Anzuru yori Umu ga Yasushi."

After her speech, there was a whirlwind of photographs with her family.

Her grandmother had stood by her the whole time proudly smiling. "Your mother would be so proud of you, Roko-chan."

Standing at the school gate with Reina for the last time, Hiroko a wave of nostalgia.

"There were a lot of good memories here," Reina said with the same nostalgic look in her eyes.

"Yes, high school was not as bad as we thought it would be." She agreed with a smile.

"Though going to an all-girls school kinda sucked on the guy front."

Hiroko shook her head. "All you think about is boys."

"Like you don't always think of just one," Reina said pulling a tongue.

"Constantly." She repeated with a breathy sigh.

"We are going to find him," Reina said with conviction. "Between the two us, he can't escape."

She believed Reina. She doubted Nowaki would have a choice is Reina tracked down a lead on him. Her best friend was the most spirited, stubborn and determined person beside herself. She believed in Reina accomplishing all her goals in life. She would be an award-winning journalist like she aspired to be. Reina would probably get the chance to stick it to her mother to one day clutching her swarm of awards.

With Reina at her side, she had a chance to find him.

While she felt doubts in her heart, Hiroko knew deep down there was no turning back.

Come what may. Hiroko knew there were risks to the venture of going to Toyko. She might never find Nowaki in the megacity. He might have died by now, just because she remembered a handsome young man, did not mean he was still a young man as eighteen years had passed at least. He might have moved on with his life and be married with a family. If he were still single and available, he might not believe her claims. There was a strong possibility he would reject her if they found him. There might not be any chemistry or spark between them in this life now.

Even when faced with those scenarios, Hiroko still felt turning back was not an option.

She had made her choice.

She was at the point of no return now.

She had to know.

(To be continued)


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

 **Part 7: Falling into Place (The Afters)**

Eventually, all things fall into place.

Until then, laugh at the confusion,

live for the moments,

and know EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON.

~ Albert Schweitzer~

Train's wheels screeched throatily as the carriage drew into Tokyo. Alighting off the bullet train, Hiroko glanced inquisitively around the bustling platform. It was the first time; she had ever travel anywhere alone. Commuters hurried through the crowd, shoving and hassling each other as they went. Beside her, Reina stepped down to the platform with a shiver. Frigid air greeted them on the platform; the sun was sinking low on the dying spring horizon. The frosty breath left Hiroko's lips as she sighed at the prospect of battling her way through the sea of commuters on that cold March evening. They found a haven by the vending machine; a pocket of space to wait for the ebbing flow of people to diminish.

"Do you think your cousin will be here to meet us?" Reina asked thoughtfully.

In her pocket, her cell-phone tinkled as it received a message.

Fishing the phone from the protective cocoon of her pocket, she read the message. Skimming over the instructions, she scanned the platform crowds to see if it was safe to brave stairs. The train doors hissed signaling that the locomotive was ready to tergiversate to its next station. Commuters scurried desperately to avoid a bitter wait in the uncomfortable cold. Overhead, the platform boards read another train was due in minutes.

"I suspect he is already waiting for us," she replied. "Come on grab your bag, let's go find him."

Eager to skirt the next rush, Hiroko absconded the stairs two at a time followed the pitter patter of her friend's footsteps. She crossed the busy foyer of the station, scanning the crowd for her cousin.

Waiting by the entrance, stood a lanky youth with dyed blond hair, lazily watching passers-by. Dressed in low hanging dark jeans, a tight-fitting top that generously demonstrated the lithe, muscular form beneath the fabric. Mature, dramatic and devilishly handsome; his mesmeric demeanor received appreciative looks from passers-by.

Behind her, she heard a gasp from Reina. "Holy shit, is that your cousin?"

A brilliant smile greeted beamed from his face, as he noticed her approach.

"Roko-chan!" Isaoki Tsukino grinned, rushing to wrap his arms around her.

Hiroko laughed as her younger cousin affectionately greeted her. Isaoki Tsukino, also known as Kino-kun was three years her junior. An excitable teenager graced with god-like looks and muscles to match. A few girls in high-school uniforms shot vexed venomous looks at her. Releasing her, Kino smiled warmly at the girl at her side.

Reina stood back smiling enjoying the spectacle that the pair were creating.

"I couldn't believe it when Uncle said that you had decided to attend University here in Tokyo!" Kino chattered happily. "Okaa-san has planned a welcome dinner with a few friends of the family for tonight. She's proud of you."

"Jealous, Kino-kun?" Hiroko asked as they stepped back into the chilled evening air.

"Nah!" He smiled. "I'm a coaster in class, not an academic! I'm more the sporty type."

"You're incorrigible!" Hiroko grinned in response.

"Sure am." Her cousin winked.

"Oh, let me introduce you to my best friend, Amaya Reina."

"Hello," Reina said coyly with a suggestive smile, offering her hand to Tsukino. "Please feel free to call me Re-chan."

"Nice to meet you too, Re-chan." Tsukino smiled warmly back to the other teenager. "I believe your father is coming in a few days with yours and Roko-san stuff. You'll be staying with us while you look for an apartment."

"That's right," Reina replied with a flirty flip of her icy blond hair.

Out the corner of her eye, Hiroko noticed her younger cousin eyeing up Reina curvy figure.

"What about you, Roko-chan?" Tsukino asked snatching up both girls' luggage from the ground. "Okaa-san's pretty adamant you're gonna be living with us while you are here. What are your plans?"

"Worried, I will cramp your style?" Hiroko asked raising her eyebrow at her cousin.

"No way!" Kino snorted.

Studying her cousin's 'does-it-look-like-I'm-bothered-face,' Hiroko smiled. Out of her three cousins, Kino-kun was the most laid back. The youngest of the Isaoki children, he had specialized in developing talent for mischief and mayhem according to her aunt's emails. Flirty, flighty and fast were the words to sum up Kino-kun. His athletic ability was carving an infamous reputation in the high school circuits for running and baseball.

In comparison to his older brother, they were as different as night and day. Eihino was a gifted scholar. Family predictions said he would likely sit the entrance exams for Tokyo University. His ultimate goal was Harvard University. Glowing reports from his parents suggested, he had a preference to study law. He had gained notoriety in a debating championship and praise from several distinguished lawyers who employed him part-time.

Her eldest cousin, Tsukiko: also known affectionately dubbed Kiko, graduated in fashion design from Bunka Fukusou Gakuin. A sharp eye for pattern and design, she had been snapped up by a branded fashion house in Europe. Now living abroad in Paris, Hiroko doubted that her eclectic cousin would ever return to Japan. Kiko's multiple piercings and outlandish outfits had ruffled feathers in the traditional elders of their family. Hiroko greatly admired her cousin for having the courage to trust in fate. Her gamble to launch her designs in Europe had paid dividends and the freedom to live her life as she pleased.

"So?" Kino asked, disturbing Hiroko from her reflective reverie. "You gonna be driving Hino mental? You know he loves competition."

Shaking her head, Hiroko replied. "I have my plans."

"We have plans," Reina interjected shooting her a funny look.

"Oh?"

Hiroko laughed amused by her cousin's confused puppy impression.

"We are planning on renting an apartment together." Reina clarified upon seeing Tsukino confused expression.

A shady grin grew on Kino's face

"Wipe that pervy grin off your face it is nothing like that!" Reina retorted to her cousin, "Get your perverted mind off that Yuri shit now."

With a secretive smile, she linked arms with her blabbing cousin and best friend; together they proceeded to her uncle's awaiting car. The next couple of days were undoubtedly going to be interesting. Considering that her younger cousin was a closet pervert and her best friend had the hots for him.

Three hours later, she found herself the guest of honour at her aunt social gathering. A small party had been an inadequate description. Almost 50 people had squeezed into her uncle's penthouse apartment. A lackluster affair with tedious guests milling about her aunt's elegant home. Dreary music played overhead. People picked at uninviting hors d'oeurves. Many of the younger guests drowned out the monotonous conversation of the archaic guests with shot after shot of champagne.

Hiroko passed through the collective of guests exchanging half-hearted greetings on route to make her escape.

Safe on the guest's bedroom balcony; she looked out over the industrious urban sprawl of Tokyo. There had been misgivings at her desire to study here. Twelve years on, this far-flung place was still the root of traumatic memories for her. Her mother had died in this city. But the truth was here. If she ever wanted the opportunity to explore her connection to Nowaki she had to do it here. This was her chance away from the protective grip and restrictive environment of her grandparents' home to find what was lost within herself. The patio door opened behind her, Reina stepped onto the balcony shivering her coat.

"It is still chilly for March," Reina said with chattering teeth.

"Not really." She replied, "No colder than at home."

The other girl laughed. "It is bloody freezing here in comparison. Sadly, this city is where my father wants me to study."

"You had the choice; he would have supported you."

"Come on, Hiroko. My dad would not support my desire to study art." Reina smiled sadly. "Like your grandfather, he calls it a waste of time, money and no prospects."

"Imagine if we had told them we want to be manga artists!" Hiroko smiled, it was a silly fantasy both girls had discussed one time.

"Then I would have been shipped off to the States to go to college, I swear," Reina answered with a grimace. "I have to study politics or law. It is all the choice I had if I wanted to go to college and I wanted to come with you no matter what I had to do."

"Well, don't forget our plan."

"Find our apartment, start our studies, start our studio and find Nowaki!" Reina cited back. "Right?"

"Yep, no one can stop us if we are making our own money from our art." She smiled, "Plus we have our manga plot."

Reina paused for a moment. "Are you sure you want to use my idea? It does kind of take advantage of you."

"Oh, Re-chan." She said turning to grasp her friend's hand. "It doesn't. Our manga was an outlet in all those years. Without your suggestion, I would have gone mad at times."

"Do you remember that day we found that manga novel in the library?" Reina asked with a smile. "I found it so shocking at first, but you just took it all in your stride."

Hiroko thought back to that inconsequential book found in a forsaken corner of a library.

In preparation for the end of year exams, their sensei had nominated her and Reina to go to the library. The librarian had been unprepared for their arrival and shoved a book reference into Reina's hands with the instruction they would have to look up the book themselves. Groaning, the girls had trudged to the philosophy section to wander up and down the isles to find the sensei's book. Trawling amongst the dusty bookshelves of the philosophy section; destiny unexpectedly bumped Hiroko on the head.

Blurry.

Throbbing.

Queasy.

The world came back to her in a flash of painful seconds as she got her wind back.

Reina was at her side instantly, asking if she was alright.

Disoriented, Hiroko hadn't been able to answer her friend straightway.

"Stay here!" Reina instructed. "I'm going to get the librarian."

Nursing her head in her hand, Hiroko cursed under her breath as the dizzy spell passed. A blanket of books littered the ground at her feet. Glancing up at the bookcase, she sighed at the broken plank that once served a shelf. She stood despite being a little unsteady to secure several precarious books clinging to the splintered ledge threatening to shower her a second time. As she reached up, a memory stirred.

"Tut-tut Hiro-san, sometimes I could believe you love those books more than me."

Startled, her fingers latched onto several books sending them cascading them behind her as she leaned into the shelf unit for support. She was sure what she had just seen was a memory. Glancing down at the sea of books on the floor she groaned. What a mess. Stooping, Hiroko began to stack up to the fallen books, neatly to one side to prevent a further incident from occurring.

A book single piqued her interest.

Junai Romantica.

An unusual title for the philosophy section.

Hiroko felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. Two young men stood entwined in an erotic pose on the front cover; spelling out the nature of the book's content. Who on earth would have hidden such a book in the library? Snorting in mild disapproval, Hiroko reached over to pick up the offensive book. Frankly, some hobbies were best reserved for the bedroom, not the school library, she thought.

As her fingers touched the book, a cold tingle ran down her spine.

A dull ache surfaced in her head.

Dark violet eyes stared at her unimpressed.

Blinking, Hiroko stared at the book.

A disembodied voice resounded in her memory.

"You and your boyfriend are sex icons," the violet-eyed man smirked, as he lit a cigarette. "My editor tells me you are selling better than any of my other Junai collections. You should be honored that have immortalized you."

Fury burned in her blood. "You used me as porn material without consent!"

"Humph." The violet-eyed man snorted, slumping back into the cushion of the sofa. "It isn't porn; merely an erotic graphic novel. I have portrayed Misaki and myself in plotlines too. He does not complain or wine like you."

A small dark brown- haired youth appeared to bring a tray of drinks scowled at the man's comment. "That's because I learned there was no point in arguing with you. The great lord 'Usagi' does as he pleases."

Frowning, she felt a strange sense of recognition of that green-eyed and brown-haired youth. Flashes of different memories of the student flickered before her eyes: sitting laughing by a fountain with other college students; frowning in concentration as he took notes; failing simple quizzes and writing essays as dull as dishwater.

"That is not the point you imbecile!" She yelled at the lilac-eyed man. "Writing about me giving a fantastical stranger a blow job detracts from my dignity and worse it crosses a line! You upset Nowaki!"

Nowaki…

A wave of anger surged inside her.

This book had caused great suffering in her younger lover. Returning home to find him anguished had provoked her rage. In the apartment, a spilled mug of coffee stained the carpet, and the offensive book lay open on the table. A graphic scene portrayed all the lewdness of the deviant sexual act. Nowaki trembled on the sofa at the carbon-copy figure of herself embracing another man. Hours of coaxing and comforting followed. Holding her lover tightly, a ghostly echo of murderous fury had reverberated in her heart.

The memory dimly faded… Feebly, Hiroko rose to her feet. Crossing the scattering of books, she unconsciously moved to the fiction aisle. Thumbing through the others, she scanned for the mysterious Usagi. Her fingertips hastily traced the spines of the books only to find nothing. She tucked the lewd publication into her blaze for later. She would have to show this to Reina once they were in the privacy of their homes.

A moment later, the librarian and Reina returned.

Hiroko played down her slight dizziness and insisted she was okay. "I am just winded."

The librarian snorted. "Fine then I will record the accident in the book now, but if you feel nauseous or lightheaded go straight the nurse, understand? Once you get your book, come to the desk I will have a note for your teacher detailing what happened. Make sure you girls get right back to class though."

With a sigh, she resumed her search of the book requested by her sensei. The offending text, she secretly stashed banged against her side with each step. She could feel the ghostly needy warmth in Nowaki's embrace and the eager fervor of his kiss. That book had inflicted a great deal of pain to him.

Her mind wandered to the name of the author.

She didn't recognise the name of Akikawa Yayoi from any other works.

Later that day, after school in Reina's bedroom, she revealed the book.

The girls spent hours researching the author together on their tablets. The author's career writing Boy Love novels ended suddenly. A very little explanation was offered to fans except for the announcement of bereavement of a loved one. Nowaki and Hiro had appeared in at least 14 novels. Reading the biography for the author, she had found that they had resided in Toyko until a decade ago before moving abroad to explore international publishing opportunities to the dismay of loyal fans.

In her earlier teens, she had often been confused about what path to follow.

Like of Komori Hiroko or life with Nowaki.

Her heart whispered the same as her soul; _I have to go back for answers._

"One day, I am going to move to Tokyo," Hiroko said to her friend.

"Really?" Reina asked looking up from her table, "Do you think your grandparents will let you do that?"

"Probably not without a fight." She sighed.

"I need to go to Tokyo University to study politics, law and international relations my father says," Reina said thoughtfully. "Maybe if we go together then they will let you go."

Hiroko smiled. "Maybe."

"Is the reason you want to go just for Nowaki?" Reina asked her taking a bite of a rice ball.

"I don't know. I have had doubts lately." Hiroko replied glancing down at the book cover's artwork. "What if I spend my life looking for someone I can't find?"

"It would make a great manga story." Reina thought out loud. "Romance, time travel, death, and journey. Just imagine how the teenage girls would eat it up, especially for a dashing hero!"

It was the conception moment for their big manga series idea. A creative outlet for the strains and frustrations of being a teenager. At six volumes drawn and written, the only missing piece was the big finale. The decision of whether or not the girl gets her guy. Reina insisted to her that the ending would come to them while they were in Tokyo.

Hiroko smiled at the memory.

Her best friend had been such an unwavering strength of support in the last six years. Since that day when fate had dropped a book on her head, Reina had been part of every plot and planned to get them both here. The romantic soul in her best friend wanted to find out the ending. Hiroko wasn't caught up in the fairytale; she knew this could all still end in tears or never end. She might have to face defeat where she didn't get answers. She might never find her Nowaki. However, now it was about putting things to rest.

She either would find her happily ever after with Nowaki or move onto her own life as Hiroko. This chapter was about laying to rest old ghosts and making sense of who was Komori Hiroko. She could only describe it as living as two people at times. She wasn't sure what were her interests and talents over what was residual remains from the past. If anything, this was her chance to get a clean slate to start afresh if her answers didn't lead her down the yellow brick road.

In the present day, Hiroko could hear the party winding down in the apartment behind her.

"I think I am going to get ready for bed," Reina said with a yawn. "You should think about it too. We have a big day tomorrow!"

Spying for the occasional star that could be seen through city's light population. Hiroko turned her mind back to her reflections of the present. Deviously, she endured surreptitiously with her reasons for accepting Tokyo University that her family did not know about. She had invitations from the literature departments across the nation, all offering bribes of scholarships to seduce her. However, the invisible connection to another person had drawn her here. If she did not take this chance to be free to investigate and explore what she remembered and dreamt of, then she felt she would wander through the rest of her life lost.

Above her, a balcony door opened for the central duplex penthouse apartment at the top of the building. It was odd as for as long as she remembered from her aunt and uncle, it had been vacant. Owned by a prominent deal author who lived in Europe most of the time now. As the scent of cigarette smoke descended from the balcony above, Hiroko wrinkled her nose in disgust. She loathed cigarettes. She stepped inside before the smoky foul smell followed her into the bedroom. Maybe, Reina's suggestion for bed was a good idea. She did have a couple of significant appointments tomorrow. Hopefully one might assist her unraveling the past.

Stepping into the Psychology Department's office, Dr. Bowan smiled warmly at the school's secretary. They politely exchanged the Japanese pleasantries as she arranged his message and post into a neat pile. Handing him, the stack of papers the young woman bid him a good day and returned to her computer desk. Efficient and effective were his two words to describe Japanese secretaries. He reflected briefly on the sassy she-demon that manned his office in Seattle.

He was going to miss the respect and courtesy of Japanese society.

A warbling voice suddenly called out to him.

"Bowan-Sensei," called the secretary. "Sorry, Sensei. You missed a message. A caller left an urgent message on the voicemail; a Miss Komori wishes to speak to you."

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Suzuki-san." He replied. "Did she indicate the reason for wanting to speak to me?"

"Yes Sensei," the secretary answered, picking up the message pad. "It relates to your appointment today to discuss your past-life transgressions research. She was confirming for your coffee meeting this morning."

"I have an appointment?" He asked with a confused look. "Hmm. Must have slipped my mind. Can you send me the details in a message?"

The coffee shop was an obscure French patisserie called Viron, nestled in a busy district of Shibuya close the research department of M University. Reading her watch, Hiroko noted she was ten minutes early. Perfect punctuality. She had four hours to complete her secret mission. Four hours to make it on time to the orientation day at T-University and keep her flat viewing appointments with Reina. The bell chimed as she entered the busy bakery, avoiding the main public counter she headed up the staircase to the café.

A polite hostess greeted her.

Ordering a tea, Hiroko enquired with the hostess about her associate. The café was still quiet at this hour of the morning; customer traffic would increase as the day wore on. Probably why the Professor had selected his venue at this hour, she mused. An American male was a natural individual to recall. The hostess chattered on about the cordial gentlemen as she guided her to a table in the back of the café. He was a thirty-something man with blondish brown hair; he was speaking Japanese on the phone as she approached. He was vaguely handsome in a distinguished way she thought.

Dr. Bowan was a half American, half Japanese who had been a Ph.D. researcher under Professor Richardson involved in researching past life transgression. He was probably her best hope of getting advice relevant to her situation. Dr. Bowan had traveled from Seattle to lecture at M-University as a guest lecturer for a semester on childhood trauma and past life transgressions. His term was just about up at the university. He would be leaving in four days. Hiroko had been relieved when her email had been answered the day before she had come to Toyko with Reina that he would make time to speak to her. She had posed as a journalist interested in his research in the hope of getting an appointment. He possessed a distinguished academic research career that spanned the last twelve years. Involving psychological analysis of past life transgression, exploring incredible claims and debunking a few fraudsters with his former mentor.

Thanking her guide, Hiroko weaved in and out the tables on the approach to her appointment.

Remember to speak English; she cautioned herself.

"Bowan-sensei?"

Baltic grey eyes surveyed her. "Ah, you must be Miss Komori, a pleasure to meet you."

"Hai, sensei." She answered slipping into the vacant seat.

"Glad you were able to find my secret hideaway." He murmured, taking a sip from his espresso cup. "Did you have to come far?"

"No, sensei. I came from the Ebisu District."

"Not too far then." The grey-eyed man mused. " Do you want a coffee? This Frenchie café does a damn good espresso! Saved my sanity over the last couple of months. Tokyo doesn't make good coffee; the canned stuff is a monstrosity!"

"I ordered tea." She answered with amusement.

"A nation of tea drinkers like the British." The professor grimaced. "Right, what can I do for you? My secretary said you were researching past life transgressions for an article you are writing."

"Sensei, I am interested in your research into past life transgressions," Hiroko answered hoping to sound sincere. "But I am afraid I lied about writing an article."

"Oh?" The doctor said, putting down his coffee.

"I apologise for lying," Hiroko hurried on, looking down at the table in guilt.

"Well, you did look a little young." Dr. Bowan smiled before taking another sip of his coffee. "But I am terrible at judging peoples ages here in Japan. Well, I'm a little flattered you went to such lengths to get my time, what made you so keen to get an appointment with me?"

Lifting her eyes from the table, Hiroko felt relief course through her veins.

"I am not sure where to start," she admitted.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" he replied with a shrug of the shoulders.

"I read your article," She began fishing into her pocket, Hiroko fumbled with the extraction of a folded piece of paper containing the article and placed it on the table between them. "You stated you are currently investigating older subjects who had past life memories they had retained from childhood that had not surfaced as a byproduct of past life regression hypnosis."

"That's particular reading for an eighteen-year-old high school student," Dr. Bowamn remarked raising his eyebrows. "I am curious as to why you read my article from the Psychology journal."

"Because I am eighteen-years-old who retains my memories of my past life."

Dr. Bowan sat back in his chair lost for words.

"I think I need another cup of coffee." He said finally.

He listened attentively as she recited her experiences. His question where direct and possessed no underlying motives, designed to goad her into slipping up. He urged her to recant as much detail as possible. The most obscure, trivial facts that she knew that could correlate her claims. For the devil was in the details, he explained. The human brain has an unbelievable capacity to invent passionate figments of the imagination or indeed recollections of a lost life.

He continued to break down critical components of her case as they discussed each point. Pulling out a notepad from his briefcase, he scribed the facts of previous life. Terrifying dreams and irrational fears commonly associated with reincarnation; possible indicators of the circumstances of her death. Partial recognition of individual names might lead her to people, but it was a long shot. Knowing what she looked like was important, she might be able to find a photograph that would identify her past self.

Hiroko replied with what she thought was known truth to her. Death caused by a vehicle; most likely a car accident in an urban setting, most likely Tokyo. Frequent déjà vu moments within Tokyo, pinpointing a robust possible correlation to the city. A paltry recollection of childhood memories of her past life suggesting she was an adult at the time of her death but not elderly.

Two hours slipped by as they talked, they had covered extensive ground. A tea stood untouched and cold surrounded by three empty coffee cups. Hiroko had divulged her early recollections of her imaginary friend, early blurry memories and then the most recent clearer recollections. She skipped over the erotic dreams out of embarrassment.

"This is incredible," Dr. Bowan said at the end of her explanation. "You are saying you are actively still experiencing new memories up to the present, correct?"

"Yes." Hiroko nodded in response. "That is why I have come to Tokyo for answers."

"Remarkable." Dr. Bowan said looking like a kid at Christmas. "Guessing you know how rare this is."

"Yes, I know. I probably sound incredibly foolish as well." She admitted.

"Not at all," Dr. Bowan said waving his hand. "You sound like a young woman on a mission. I do have to ask though; have you thought about what happens next?"

It was all she had thought off for nearly a year.

While letting go was the easy option, she knew deep in her heart she would regret it for the rest of her life if she walked away from him. Nowaki was her whole world. He had been her lifebuoy in the confusing sea of hormones of her teens. The source of powerful dreams that had tumbled her world into chaos and caused her years of embarrassment. No crush described by any of her classmates inspired by actors, pop stars or the local high school hottie could compare to the depth of feeling and heat of hers. No man could rival the intensity of sensation after she had heard the awkward tales of her peers. Her heart exclusively longed for the man who kissed her like she was precious and wanted to consumed to possess every fiber of her being.

A tall, dark-haired man with navy blue loving eyes filled her mind.

"Of course," Hiroko replied feeling the words catch in her throat. "Despite the reservations, I have about this situation; I can't just relinquish this… who I was… I don't know how to describe it other than a part of me feels missing. I don't think I can live this life without resolving what feels like unfinished business."

"Hmm," Dr. Bowan said pursing his lips. "It is a prevalent theme; I have experienced it a lot in my sessions with children claiming past life memories."

Looking squarely at the man, opposite her, she spoke softly with real conviction. "Sensei, I believe pure love is a treasure: rare and golden. Once found it burns into the core essence of your soul. Why would I want to give up on something so precious as that?"

He smiled. "No, I doubt even I would struggle to disregard, such a seemingly perfect love."

For an awkward moment, silence hung over the table.

"It is almost time for me to go," she announced noticing the time. "I have to be at the Tokyo University in an hour for registration."

"You are an extraordinary young lady, Hiroko-san." Dr. Bowan said with a smile. "With your bright, inquisitive mind you will go far. A shame to waste it on the Humanities, but if literature is your calling, I wish you all the best."

Collecting her thoughts, Hiroko wanted one final answer, but she was terrified to ask.

But it was another now or never moment.

"How many cases have you seen that end well?" Hiroko asked choking out the words.

Setting his cup down, Dr. Bowan looked into the eyes of the young woman seated opposite him

"Most cases, I have compiled are indisputable examples of false memories influenced by the media or unknown inputs," Dr. Bowan answered with honesty. "I can refer you to case studies that may have genuine merit; for example, Jenny Cockell, a woman from the United Kingdom has some interesting findings, she might be of use to you. With the information you have told me, I don't know if like her you will find your Nowaki. It might be just sheer luck if you do."

Offering her hand, she thanked him. "Thank you, Dr. Bowan, for your time; I appreciated the opportunity to speak with you."

Taking her hand, Dr. Bowan smiled back at her. "It was my pleasure; I hope we have a chance to talk more in the future. I would love to document you as a case study for my research."

She felt herself blush a little. "Thank you; I certainly would be delighted to do so."

"I will hold you to that." Dr. BowFan said as she stood to leave the table. "And if I may be bold, I look forward to hearing what happens next."

(To Be Continued)


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8: Find Your Way Back (Michelle Branch)**

Don't hold together what must fall apart.

The familiar life crumbles so the new life can begin.

~ Bryant McGill ~

Registration day was pandemonium.

At first sight, she stood aghast at the ongoing commotion.

The hustle and bustle.

Pinching and poking.

Shoving and seizing.

The whole affair was quite fatiguing.

Slurping her chilled beverage, Hiroko felt relief as it drenched her thirst. Hours of talking and wandering had drained her energy reserves. Under the heat of warm spring day, she pondered thee rationality behind hosting such events. Cramming hundreds of overheated, perspiring students into hot rooms to stew lacked any logical sense.

 _If you had not been distracted you would have been here before the mob_ ; her mind scolded her.

Complaining would not change the situation. Hiroko sighed as she glanced out the cafeteria window to the summer sunshine. She had collected her registration papers with ease. The scholarship office processed her paperwork within the allotted time of her appointment. The system broke down as she enrolled in her classes. Her choice had been to specialize in Humanities, her preferences for courses in Literature, History and classical Japanese language. However, an individual lecturer had taken impromptu leave of absence sounding the death knell for her organised and orderly schedule.

Sitting before three bickering class advisors, an irradiated tick began in her brow. A headache pounded annoyingly at her temple. How on earth could the most distinguished university in Japan employ these anencephalic imbeciles? Resigned to resolve the issue herself, she had demanded access to the academic course handbook.

Riffling through the book, she quizzed the hapless educators on alternative options.

"I am sorry Komori- san." One lecturer apologized glancing nervously at her increasingly demonic profile. "The schedules for this term won't allow you to take those subjects with the mandatory curriculum."

Dark eyes glared, she curtly addressed the feeble man. "What pray tell can I take to fill the hole in my timetable?"

Three faces answered her at once. "Law!"

Gulping another chilled mouthful of her drink, Hiroko humped at the pile of literature in front of her tray. Law. A worthless subject in her opinion. Her childhood friend, Reina was delighted at the turn of events. Enrolled as a law student, Reina had guided her along to the department in glee.

The female law students were all enchanted with one Professor. He was a splendid example of the male form. A sumptuous dish that Reina gushed over as they entered the department. The man at the heart of this female fixation was Professor S. Miyagi.

Knocking softly on the door of his office, Hiroko resigned herself to endure the perdition of law studies. Inwardly cursing the selfishness of one man. Hopefully, his new book was self-combust forcing him back to teaching asap! At least, if she were forced to bare this it would be for the procurement of new insights into the art of literature, so her suffering would not be in vain.

A muffled voice invited her in.

Opening the door, a tall, handsome man with straw-blond hair and dark grey eyes greeted her. He was roughly middle-aged, presented in a designer suit and to most would be a titillating vision. No wonder, Reina was gaga for this man. Hiroko found him a little disenchanting. His profile failed to appear as tantalizingly as her princely memory of Nowaki. As she studied her new profession, he turned to inspect her over the rim of an equally expensive pair of spectacles. Dark silver eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. A flare of familiarity crossed the lecturer's features, as he rose from his desk.

"Can I help you?" He asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Good day, Professor Miyagi-san. My name is Komori Hiroko. I believe you were told to expect me; I am assigned to your class due to a schedule clash."

"Of course." He murmured turning back to his desk for a clipboard. "Yes, as a result of a simpleton in literature you weren't able to register on a top-rated course. My faulty has to bear the slack left by that dunce. I hope for your sake, Miss Komori you have ability beyond literature. Law is a subject the requires an acute, questioning mind."

Seething with rage spread through her at the dismissive tone of the man before her. Her nails dug painfully into her palms as she bit her tongue. He questioned her academic potential! He had the nerve to disregard her with disdain because her first choice had literature. She would demonstrate her keen and capable mind to this arrogant professor!

"The student manning the sign-in desk told me, you would come by to collect my class timetable and book list." The scarecrow blond muttered. "Here is information you will need and the first class assignments. I won't tolerate half-assed work or excuses. Make sure you complete assignments, Miss Komori."

A brush of skin caused her eyes to widen.

The familiar electric rush sent her stumbling back.

Something stirred in her mind's eye.

A faint lingering scent of familiar cologne and cigarettes reached her senses.

The nameplate.

Miyagi.

Her head pulsed with the image of a tall, dark-haired older male. A lazy cigarette perched on his lips. Mocking gestures directed at her furrowed brows and snarling countenance. The overwhelming sense of weakness. Sexually harassing embraces. Gushy claptrap. Compromising cuddles involving a high school student with straw-blond hair and a sour face.

Then Nowaki's voice.

It was not his usually calm, loving tone, but angry, desperately harsh tone of voice.

Devilled blue eyes.

Fist poised ready.

She struggled to hold off his punch aimed at her senior professor.

It was entirely this baka's fault!

"You idiot! Stop that!" A sharp voice pierced her thoughts. "Calm yourself!"

Jerking upright, Hiroko found herself in the hold of her professor. He had seized her wrists. She trembled at the bewildering images swamping her conscious thoughts. She shrunk back in embarrassment. Papers lay strewn across the office floor. She had knocked them over as she collided with the desk. Lowering her eyes, she groaned at the scene she had caused.

 _Oh God, let the world swallow me up!_ She silently wished.

"Are you alright?" Professor Miyagi asked as he surveyed her strange demeanor. "Do you need to see the nurse?"

"No sensei." She bowed in apology. "I apologize, I believe I have been a little over-strained the last few days. The stress is affecting me."

The tall man's shadow continued to hang over her as he studied her chagrin cheeks. "Miss Komori, have we met previously?"

"I doubt it sensei," She stuttered thoughtlessly. "The only Miyagi-san I know is very tall, dark-haired and… I am chattering on about nonsense. Ha ha ha."

A nervous laugh failed to hide her growing mortification.

The man before her froze. Tension hummed through his body as if he had seen a ghost. Hiroko raised an eyebrow at this strange response. The man before her promptly released her. He rustled papers around on his desk and collected sheets off the floor into a neat pile on a central table. Whether he chose to ignore her idiosyncratic behavior or felt uncomfortable by it, she was grateful that her lecturer resumed normalcy.

"Here, Komori. All your class notes, reading list, and a first assignment are in this booklet, and these papers are the list of class times I hold with Sensei Iato. Please be prompt to class."

"Arigatou gozaimasu, sensei."

"Douitashimashite, Komori-san." The blond professor nodded. "Please excuse me; I have urgent matters to attend to."

With a bow, she had departed.

Several chairs squeaked on the linoleum floor. The room was emptying as the lunch crowd dispersed. Lifting up the apartment catalogue, Hiroko resigned herself to the fact she could not afford to dawdle any longer. The time read one o'clock on her watch. If she wanted to find a decent apartment before the other students snatched all the bargains; she would have to start her search immediately. Reina was still attending introductory seminars for her criminology classes. It would be another hour before she was free.

No rest for the wicked, she thought.

As the door closed behind the student, law professor, Shinobu Miyagi collapsed into his office chair. Astonishment written across his face. How on earth could this child know Miyagi? Resting his head in his hands, he nursed his confused thoughts. His head suddenly shot up. His expression agape. Dumbfounded as his mind placed the familiarity of the girl.

It could not be!

Grimacing, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

They were too similar for coincidence.

Was this another of destiny's practical jokes?

His mind conjured a mental image of his old enemy. Albeit, there were possibilities there were also differences. She was slender and attractive for a woman. Devoid of any evil glint in her eyes. Her nose was straighter, delicately feminine. The infamous lips not so fulminated. Could that slip of a girl be the demon's spawn?

Or was his mind playing tricks?

Opening her file, Shinobu read for a moment. He pushed the document away disgusted. Hiroko. Was she named for a secret lover? Did Miyagi know this detestable secret?

How on earth could the demon have insulted and betrayed his partner like that?

Rebooting his computer, Shinobu calmly composed an email to his lover. His thoughts weighing on his dear friend heavily. Concern rose in his gut; a world might be shattered a second time if his suspicions were correct. How the hell was he supposed to keep this from Nowaki? This might send him over the edge again!

 _Oh God, please let me be mistaken._ Shinobu pleaded to the universe.

Her feet hurt.

Four districts of Tokyo later, she was struggling to match an apartment to her price range and essential criteria. Slumping down on top of a wall outside a family restaurant, she signed. A distance clock chimed the hour. Growling noises from her stomach reminded Hiroko of her hunger. The restaurant behind her looked decent. Several young families were seated, eating various appetizing dishes. Wandering into the restaurant, she asked a waitress for a menu. A table stood in the corner by the window; an uncanny sense of déjà vu tickled her memory. She could not place this restaurant, but in her heart, she knew she had visited her before. In this life or the past, the truth of memory remained elusive.

No more funny business today! She reprimanded herself, recalling the foolishness she had indulged in her lecturer's office.

Clearing her head, she requested to a seat by the window. She ate a simple, delicious Ramon dish while thumbing through her apartment brochure. Several apartments tempted her interest. One was just around the corner, close to the train to the university campus. It was quite a light and bright space with two bedrooms like she was desperately looking. While she loved Reina, her snoring would drive her crazy sharing a room.

In the bustle of the restaurant, she called the agents to request viewings. Several were closed. Leaving a message and her details, she asked for a return call in the coming days. Two offices were still trading. A curt woman assisted her to organise an appointment in two days to see a promising 1K mansion apartment in the district of Meguro. On paper, space seemed too perfect. It came in under budget, housed in a reasonable distance from her family and possessed a delightful southeast aspect for plenty of sunshine. Folding the booklet, she abandoned it to lose herself in reflection. She people-watched the world hurry by. Pondering each walker's mission and burdens.

Time passed; grey evening skies growled and threatened rain.

Constant tinkling from her phone forced her to return to the reality of the world. Around her the staff was commencing the end of the daily routine; the floor was mopped, chairs lifted off the floor, and the kitchen staff was winding down service. Scrambling out her seat, Hiroko profusely apologized to the restaurant staff for loitering. Her waitress laughed in good humour as she took the yen bills.

"Don't worry about it." The waitress smiled reassuringly. "You looked like you had a lot on your shoulders. Feeling better?"

"A bit." She replied with a grateful smile.

"Will you make it to the station alright?" The waitress asked handing back her change. "Kabukicho can sometimes be a little rough at night; sometimes the high schoolers can be pests."

"I am sure I'll be fine, the metro station is just around the corner. Hajimemashite."

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Sayonara."

Stepping into the cooling evening air, Hiroko looked around the busy street. At nine o'clock the sidewalk was coursing with pedestrians. Teenagers hung about chatting and playing with their phones. Couples could be seen walking hand in hand. Businessmen and women lumbered tiredly along. The local grocery store was humming with customers occupied with purchasing reduced bargains, bentos, and convenience microwavable meals.

Turning a corner, Hiroko stood next to the opening of an alley. Glancing down the dark street, her instincts told her she could reach the station along this route. Down this dark side street was the longer way to the station.

She frowned.

How did she know that?

Her hand felt strangely warm as she stared at this odd corner of the world full of garage doors and graffiti. If she walked down this passage, she would reach a shop with a red awning located by the rail bridge. Her instincts screamed defiantly that this was a doltish scheme. The prudent course of action would be the secure, well-lit route to the station.

On Fate's precarious selvage point, eleven words vibrated in her thoughts.

Do what you have to do to find him.

A clear, fleeting memory surfaced. Warm pressure entwined around her fingers

Hiroko felt her breath hitched, and the ache in her heart intensified.

Closing her eyes, a vision danced in her mind's eye.

A goofy smile adorned her gentle giant's face.

Pleasure danced in his eyes at this tiny surrender.

"Hiro-san," he called to her softly.

Stepping forward, she reconciled herself to the mercy of Destiny

Fate collided two hearts, entangling them in the weave of their tangled string to forge connection precariously. Vibrations vacillated the courses of two individuals. Knotted threads unraveled; two worlds conjectured to miss each other at Kabukicho Station were consigned to brush.

Reconnecting, two paths in a moment of cosmic arbitration…

(To be continued)


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify:

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

 **Part 9: Two Worlds Collide (Demi Lovato)**

This is the way that everything in the universe was formed.

It is a never-ending story of things colliding:

Small things colliding to make big things,

Big things colliding to make bigger things.

These are the events that shape today's galaxy.

~ Pieter Van Dokkum ~

The old store with the red awning stood alone, abandoned to the ravages of time. The red acrylic sheet was torn. Tickled by the breeze, it wafted in the cooling night air. A secret monument illustrating the change of time that separated the past and the present. Staring up at the fluttering canopy, dubiety slithered into the sempiternity regions of her heart.

The shabby condition of the red awning sent a twinge of concern through her.

Was her quest a foolish flight of fantasy?

Her impertinent teenage fantasies had failed to consider the ever marching forward of time. Eighteen years had transformed this alley into a desolate space, trashed by time. The torn red awning was a metaphoric reminder that she inhabited an altered world. The bitter memories of this being a good neighborhood that had been the precursor of this dilapidated sight of the present that rattled her mind.

Her shoulders drooped defeat as she realised this might not be the only change.

While she had always known, this was a risky endeavor; she faced the stark reality of her nightmares.

This was the world where feelings could have been rewritten.

What if he had fallen in love with someone else?

A clamorous crash spooked her.

Crude voices echoed in the passageway beyond the rail bridge.

Her instincts urge to flee.

As she started to walk quickly back in the other direction, a group of rough looking youths about her age indolently sauntering into the alley. One criminally strutted along emptying a can of spray paint across the alley's walls. Others vested a keen interest in an unfortunately placed car. The crunch of glass signaled the pack had found prey. Electric wails succumb to the aggressive onslaught of the mob as the gang trashed the car.

As she glanced over her shoulder at the noise of the car alarm, Hiroko bumped into a steely chest dressed in leather. Towering over her hundred and seventy-three centimeters stood the owner of the body that hindered her path. The brutish, bestial muzzle of the face, which peered down at her wore a malicious sneer. Shadowy salacious eyes profanely probed down her person.

Snaking back, a sliver of trepidation unnerved her.

"Well, hello gorgeous." He smirked advancing on her. "Are you looking for a good time?"

"Don't touch me!" She hissed shrinking backward.

"Play nice," he murmured frostily as his hand shot out to capture her wrist.

Clammy fingers enclosed her flesh with a painful grip. Hiroko struggled against the vice-like hold of her captor. Their hustle wrangled the attention of his other odious comrades.

"Looks like you're having problems wooing that lady." A voice interjected with a laugh. "Too much woman for you, Kato?"

Group laughter rang out in the alley.

"Screw you!" Her captor snarled.

"She's a fine-looking piece of ass."

"This should be entertaining."

Her tumultuous heartbeat pumped in fear.

While her abductor was distracted, she wrenched free of his hold.

Spinning velociously on her heels, she fled as her captor yelled after her.

Thunderous footsteps rang out the alley.

Frenetic, furious breaths heaved in her chest.

"Get that bitch!" A ferocious growl commanded.

Manic howls of laughter and threats dogged her footfall.

Staggering through the dark, unfamiliar territory, trepidation drove her onwards seeking the shelter in neon-lit streets. Footsteps of her pursuers gained up her. Skidding sideways, she darted through a constricted gap in a wire fence. A paw of her predator swiped at the thin air she escaped from.

Growling, he leaped up to climb the panel in pursuit.

Agilely retreating, she dashed onto the main street. Narrowly avoiding clashing with pedestrians, she continued to sprint desperately. Cries of annoyance echoed as she carelessly blundered against the natural ebb and flow of the sidewalk traffic. Piqued, indignant voices provided a breadcrumb trail for her stalkers to track her.

Without thought, she leaped perilously into the road.

Car horns stridulously screeched.

Wayfarers of walkway wailed and whooped at the madness.

Dodging bonnets, Hiroko tergiversated the tarmac road.

Her mind raced: thoughts screaming in reparation over and over…

Reach the platform.

Safety was with others.

Escape on the train, her mind ordered.

A dash through the gate, stumbling down the station steps, she perched listening to the echoes from passages of purgatory she navigated. Sweat trickled down her brow; she stood to wait for reverberations of warning. No jingle of the turnpike sounded out in the cold underground world. Glancing down the platform, she studied her companions waiting for the next train. Several commuters stood curiously observing the attractive disheveled young woman, panting harshly at the entranceway. Two high school girls clutched oddly shaped cases of musical instruments. A couple stood twitterpated on the concourse. A young child laughed. A middle-aged woman cast a condescending, cursory peek towards her.

Silence.

Her heart rated reposed itself.

With one step further onto the platform, a sound turned her blood to ice.

The thud of lumbering, beefy boots.

Calamitous crow of the approaching gang.

An authoritative voice boomed from the depths.

Frightful faces stared at the hell mouth from where a chilling commotion carried. The mother clasped her hands over her child's ears to hide the bloodcurdling shrieks of the station guard who had approached the thugs as they enter the station. Disheartened passengers shivered.

Each retreating to seek secret, shadowy corner.

Overhead, the automated voice announced the impending arrival of the cavalry.

Scared sepia orbs sprung to the arrivals board.

Five minutes.

Adrenalin surged in her blood as the lumbering; galumphed strides drew closer to the stairs. A cold shiver descended her spine. She had to hide. Sprightly steps searched out a secluded spot at the end of the platform to shelter her.

Shielded behind the concrete pillar, Hiroko prayed. The goby gobble of the wild wastrels grew closer. Motivated by greed, the devious youths mounted the platform primed to terrorize the innocent and unleash their banditry.

Eerie creep of the phantasmal air signaled the impending locomotive.

Four minutes.

Stationed behind a concrete pillar, she listened to the carnage.

Acrid voices exploited and extorted the vulnerable. Glimpsing around the curvature of the column, she witnessed the vilified villainy as the gang snatched away valuables. The thugs on the platform were a gang of five individuals. Dressed in dark, nondescript clothing, holding menacing weapons of two intimidating knives and crackling electric Taser. They stood threatening to shoot and shank the passengers. With malevolent coercion, they educed possessions from their owners.

Savage orbs gleamed with wicked blood-lust.

A thin, gangly youth riotously reached for the twitterpated man, headbutting him savagely in the face repeatedly.

Blood bespatters the ground.

Clattering wheels were approaching.

Caterwauling of an injured woman peaked at her heart.

Guilt consumed her as she hung back hidden in her hiding place.

Urgent hails warned the pack of the encroaching train.

The alpha male snorted.

A venomous gaze set upon the young mother quivering with her sobbing child. Manically, he revealed his knife as he strode purposely towards the distressed parent. Wide-eyed, she pleaded for protection and mercy. Petrified passengers watch in dismay, restrained from aiding her.

Snarling, he demanded. "Give me your purse lady!"

Boldly the woman spat at him.

Skirting around her pillar, there was one chance.

Temerity plucked at her pulse. Perspiration dampened her palms, as they clung tightly to the straps of her cumbersome rucksack. The leader stepped menacingly forward to his target. Pivoting quickly, Hiroko aimed her bag to clobber the face of the rapacious ruffian. Her prey distracted, she landed a further kogeki blow to disarm the knife from him.

The knife sheered away to the edge of the platform.

Three minutes.

Wheels of time cranked into motion…

"You little…." He growled. "Your gonna pay for that!"

In the commotion, the other gang members blinked in astonishment at the bold action of a slip of a girl dancing with their leader. A couple of the gang pushed back their hostages to distill any emboldened hope. Another individual stepped forward to assist his boss, only to be shouted down.

"Stay there!" The leader barked. "I can handle this bitch!"

A glint of a penknife was her only warning of the attack. Shifting sideways, her attacker missed his intended target. Fingers snatched at her hair, dragging her into close contact with him. Vicious words were whispered into her ear. She struggled against his hold. Pain sliced through her cheek as cool steel connected with her. Trickles of blood meandered down the contours of her face. In retaliation, her foot connected with his shin. The scuffle continued briefly. Biting, scratching and kicking: she fought with all the feistiness she could muster. Seizing his wrist, she threw her weight into disarming him. He slapped her hard as she knocked the penknife from his hand. Her head hit the floor with a crunch.

The world wobbled.

Two minutes.

"You're a tough manko." Her assaulter callously pronounced as he grasped her chin forcing her to look him in the eye. "Shame I didn't catch you in the alley, I would've enjoyed teaching you a harsher lesson."

Thrusting her back, he turned to reclaim his fallen knife.

Terrified shrieks and shouts cried out in chaos…

Lights in the dark tunnel unnerved the gang…

A vicious hand grasped her…

She clawed at her attacker with fierce strength…

A knee collided with her stomach winding her…

Queasiness twisted from the pit in her stomach…

Angry voices…

"Boss! We gotta go!"

One minute.

A gush of fresh air.

Echoing heavy footsteps retreated.

The usual routine commute was exorbitantly eventful that evening.

Drawing into the Kabukicho station, the metro train arrived at a scene of blood, violence, and savagery. The maladroitly of the moment astonished, scandalized and traumatized the alighting passengers.

A flurry of activity animated the platform.

The conductor and driver disembarked to pursue the absconding assailants.

Several passengers rushed to assist the injured.

Strangers poured out around her…

One Good Samaritan, a dark-haired man, greeted two young women and a hysterical child. He claimed to be a medic. He crouched down to examine each member of the small group. The mother and child were shaken, but unharmed. Turning to access the extent of the dazed brunette's injuries.

A distant voice addressed her.

"Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?" The Samaritan spoke softly in a reassuring tone.

That voice.

Symptoms of concussion were apparent in her profile from the confounded countenance and hints of hesitation. A painful laceration marred her cheek. Spit spots of blood dripped to the ground. The other woman eased a clean tissue from her handbag for him. Thanking her, the Samaritan pressed the temporary dressing to her cheek. Easing her jaw upwards, he attempted to reduce the blood flow when her eyes met with those of her kind Samaritan.

A disbelieving utterance escaped from her lips as her concussion fogged her brain.

"Nowaki?"

The man's eyes grew wide in surprise.

The young woman's breathy remark staggered the Good Samaritan.

Then he smiled, realising he was wearing his name tag.

"Yes, my name is Nowaki." He smiled back. "Keep as still as you can for me."

As he cleared the blood from her cheek with some clean bottled water, he examined the edges of the wound. It was a clean cut. It would likely heal without leaving a scar. The metro staff arrived with a first aid kit, rummaging he found butterfly stitches and a suitable dressing. His patient sat still with her eyes fixed on his face as he worked. While applying the last stitch, his beguiling cobalt orbs met with the soft tawny eyes that studied him from under delicate eyelashes. Her eyes flittered across his features in a loving assessment.

"Nowaki" she murmured that sent an electric wave shooting down to his heart.

"The ambulance is the way," the conductor announced behind him. "The police just arrived out the front of the station."

"Thank you," the Samaritan replied handing back the first aid box.

"Will she be alright?" A woman behind him enquired.

"I think so," he replied. "Just a bit of shock possibly concussion. I will go the hospital with her."

* * *

How did she know him?

The way she said his name sounded as if she did.

Cinnamon sepia eyes grew confused and opaque.

Slumping forward, she collapsed into him. Reacting swiftly, he caught his mysterious lady. Cautiously, he observed the cataleptic form in his arms. Young, slender and strikingly beautiful. Brushing locks of her short hair from her face, his heart twinge as he noted a resemblance of the person he had once loved. Drawing her to rest against his chest, his heart throbbed bizarrely.

Dabump.

Dabump.

Dabump.

His mind cast back to a distance moment of the past. A vision of that first moment he met his adorable lover. Startled, distraught teary sepia eyes met and married his ocean blue. The fizzle of electricity at a glance. The curious tightening and erratic rhythm of his pulse. His brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he lent in closer holding this young woman protectively in his arms.

He could not remember the last time he held another person in his arms like this.

Not someone who felt like they belonged there as his Hiro-san had.

The ambulance crew arrived moments later asking for stats and checking the crowd over for injuries. Two from the platform would be taken to the local emergency unit to be checked over. Nowaki offered to carry the semi-conscious young woman who clung to him like a lifeline after she only held on tighter when the paramedic offered two support her down to the ambulance. It was probably shocking; he didn't mind though it was nice to feel needed in this way he decided. The paramedics had not asked any questions when he insisted on coming along to the hospital.

Perhaps they were glad to have a doctor along for the ride in case anything had gone wrong.

After taking a break from pediatrics after his suicide attempt, Nowaki's heart had not been in caring for children. He still had a medical degree and several years of resident training which seemed a waste to throw away after costing so much from his relationship and life at the time. He felt guilty about letting all Hiro-san hours of teaching him through the high school proficiency exam go to waste. He decided to go back to university to change his specialism in medicine. After a few years, he graduated in his thirties with a new diploma in general practice and psychotherapy. He would be able to understand his patients on a personal level that many physicians would not be able too.

The doctor on duty in the emergency room that night, fortunately, turned out to one of his classmates while he studied general practice. His former classmate had looked the other way as he became involved and accompanied his patient into the observation ward. He had sat there just looking at the girl who reminded him so much of his beloved Hiro-san as the doctor and nurse checked her over. The young woman had muttered nonsense as she swooned in and out of consciousness due to the concussion. At one point, she had reached for his hand squeezing it tightly with a pained, anxious look written across her face as she murmured his name again. The nurse finally ushered him out as she prepared to change the slumbering young woman into a fresh hospital gown.

He had learned her name was Komori Hiroko. She was eighteen years old and from Nagoya according to her medical records. Luckily, in her pursue had been her official I.D. card and medical insurance card. The police officer had found them as the paramedics checked the spaced-out Hiroko in the ambulance.

Nowaki sat in the relative's room waiting for an emergency contact to come for Komori Hiroko. He was surprised when another young woman dressed in eclectic wardrobe with icy blond hair and aqua eyes appeared enquiring after Komori Hiroko. He listened to the exchange with the receptionist for a moment. Amaya Reina was Komori flatmate and best friend; she had arrived first following her would be Komori-san's family. Her uncle was parking the car.

The receptionist behind the desk waved him eagerly over.

"Amaya-san, this is Kusama-sensei." The receptionist introduced them. "He came in with your friend. He was the one who treated Komori at the station."

"Kon'nichiwa," he said approaching the aqua-eyed young woman. "My name is Kusama-san."

"Kusama-san, I have to thank you for your kindness to my friend," Amaya said with a formal bow.

"Honestly, it was nothing." He replied gesturing for Amaya to rise.

"The doctor is on his rounds at the moment, Amaya-san," the receptionist said putting down the phone down. "Kusuma-sensei is a doctor as well he should be able to give you a summary until the ward doctor arrives."

Nowaki watched the growing crowd arrive of the Komori arrived. Being an orphan, he had never been surrounded by a large family full of love and concern. Komori Hiroko was undoubtedly blessed with relatives that cared for her. People had cared for him, but Hiro-san had been his only family. The family, in turn, all greeted him and expressed their gratitude.

Nowaki took the hand of Komori's grateful uncle offered and returned the handshake. "I was only doing what any doctor would have done."

"Well, we are eternally grateful that you were there." Her uncle said gratefully.

The family excused themselves as the ward doctor arrived to speak to them.

Dismissed, Nowaki took that his moment to leave as the hour was growing late.

He just needed to do one more thing.

"Apologies, I think left my jacket in the observation room," Nowaki said to the receptionist at the desk. "I will just go fetch it if you don't mind."

"Of course, Kusama-sensei." The receptionist said unlocking the door. "Please go ahead."

* * *

In the ghostly recesses of the shadows of the dark room, the Good Samaritan stood guard over a pale sleeping beauty. She lay ashen and fragile against the crisp, white linen of the clinic bed. Lucid, dark bruises were forming blemishes the soft, creamy tone of her skin. Thin adhesive strips pinched together the laceration that marred her cheek. A mark of her bravery to protect others. A further small dressing covered the shallow cut at her temple. Despite her battle wounds, she was still an astonishing angelic sight.

Leaning in close, he examined her face in intimate detail.

Her eyes lids fluttered as she slept.

He drew in a gasp of breath.

Would she wake to his inspective gaze?

Anxious seconds ticked by.

Long dark brown eyes lashes resettled on high pale cheekbones. Peace returned to her slumbering form. Releasing his breath, he continued his tender exploration. The contours of her face mirrored and mimicked the profile he had lovingly memorized as it slept on the pillow beside him. The shape appeared daintier and more delicately rounded in this specimen. Her nose was straighter, with a peppering of tiny freckles. Soft, full lips adorned her face; they were slightly darker in colour. However, they possessed the same shape that the lips of his lover. Lips that he had kissed countless times. Strangely, this masquerading face lacked the cruelty that commonly had berated, denounced, and fumed from his lost lover.

His finger slipped in the velvety strands of her hair. She possessed a similar thick, soft mane. The hues of the locks were paler. A somber sorrel tone rather than his lover's dark brunet. He adoringly stroked his fingers through her hair. Closing his eyes, he selfishly allowed himself to imagine their old bedroom. The red digits on the clock read an obscure, ungodly hour. Hiro-san lay slumbering in the confines of their bed. The scent of books, fresh soap and the pert fragrance of tea tree oil shampoo washed over him.

A lugubrious smile tugged his lips, as he brushed his fingers through her hair one last time. He sighed wistfully at the enchanting esthetical that lay before him. Deep yearning quivered in his heart. Leaning forward, he breathed in the piquantly sweet scent that clung to her skin as he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She smelt like the titillating taste of honey-baked apples. Disappointment trickled into his heart that she didn't possession Hiro-san's scent.

Ominous footsteps clattered down a distance corridor. He riskily toyed with jeopardy by staying here. He was not family; it was merely because of his former status as a doctor had been allowed to accompany her past the reception. The Good Samaritan rose from the side of the bed, crossing the room to collect his coat from the back of the chair in preparation to leave.

Casting a final glance at the alluring angel who lay dreaming in the bed, he departed.

A single thought echoed in his mind.

 _In the moonlight, they were almost indistinguishable._ He thought.

(To be continued)


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

 **Spotify Playlist** \- Search for Fanfiction - In This Life

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

 **Dedication** : I would like to thank the following people for taking the time to review this story. Your words of support are wonderful to receive so thank you for taking the time to express how much you like the story by leaving a review or following/ favoriting this story.

I love reading reviews; definitely keeps me motivated so if you are enjoying/hating/trolling/or have something to say post a review I would be delighted to hear your thoughts.

 **Notes:**

 **To Guest,**

I do aim to update a least once a week as I get time to go through with Grammarly to review my spelling and grammar mistakes (however this is by no means perfect editing). This is a rough posting of the story as I want to post it up quickly to help me share this story has been in the works for nearly ten years. I am experimenting with adding more content and twist than the ordinary post which was only supposed to be 10 chapters long, now with the extra plot lines, this will be at least an 18-20 chapter story. It was a simple happy ever after before now I am twisting the night in and exploring more aspects of the characters and smuggling in some nice extra scenes that I hope enhance the story in the rewrite.

Why do I include cliffhangers? Simply because it is more fun!

A lot more of Nowaki is coming in the next chapter for your delight.

P.S. Hope, you did not fail your exam.

* * *

 **Part 10 - Round and Round (3 Doors Down)**

Trust yourself.

You know more than you think you do.

~ Benjamin Spock ~

Hiroko dreamt under an endless starry sky.

Her nameless companion guided her to this special place. He was a chimerical outline of a figure with no definite form save the vague silhouette of a man. This lineation struck no fear in her. She followed confidently behind her guide as it was second-nature to trust this shadow intrinsically. Amongst the desolate trees, he led her through the coppice of tenebrous trees. Wraith-like fingers of the branches clambered towards the heavens. Gnarled digits tried to snatch the elusory luminous orbs from the indigo curtain of night. Out of the darkness, the great silver moon began its ascent into the heavens. Pearly light polished the earth with an otherworldly glow. The claws of the forest recoiled in the lustrous illumination to reveal a secret window at the heart of the woods.

Her guide drew into the auroral opening.

The world stood still here.

This was a gateway to a changeling realm.

Above the glistening starry sky floated among all the trees.

In this alien place, a strange sense of familiarity stirred.

"Why am I here?" She asked with breathy wonder.

"You are here to remember." The nameless person said to her.

A strange quiescence descended over the earth in this ethereal place. Her senses were overwhelmed with esoteric sensations. Sound ceased. In the stillness, silence learned to extrude a mysterious melody of its devising. The tone was sharp and crisp to the ears. Hauntingly sublime to the hearing. The smell of the air was brisk, clean and earthy. Drawing a deep breath into her chest, her taste buds tingled at the piquant tartness of the air. Her cheeks stung in the brisk rawness of the night.

The aura of this place was wintry.

Her guide spoke in whispers she could barely hear.

His words sounded alien and outlandish to her ears.

"I don't understand," she replied confused by the odd words he said.

"Lie down."

Lying in the lush dewy grass, she smiled.

She found incredible peace in the emptiness of the moment.

Bedazzled by the intricate beauty of the changeling place, she forgot her purpose in this unreal place. Few sporadic words were uttered between the pair as they lay in the company of the floating heavens. They listened to the melodious aria of silence as they basked in the moonlight. Two pairs of sepia eyes scanned different sectors of the celestial empyrean searching for a sign. They admired the grandeur of each constellation of the sky. None of the countless shapes or figure felt obliged to disclose the secret purpose of her presence in this place.

An electric silvery cobalt star soared across the sky.

Distant noises disturbed her.

Closing her eyes, she focused on one echoey chord.

It was the ghostly voice, flavored with sweet love and gentle kindness. The sound oozed tender warmth from every syllable. Hidden in the tone, a sensation of lascivious delight flickered.

 _Hiro-san._

 _Hiroki._

 _Kamijou Hiroki._

The wraithy whispers of the wind died away as she opened her eyes.

"Why did I come here again?" She asked her companion.

"I brought you show you this view." Her nameless guide said.

"It is beautiful." She murmured.

"I always believed so."

Confused by a sensation of loss stirring in her heart. She stared up at the radiant view of the moon hoping for an answer to her silent question. In this perfection of this moment, why did misery stir in the deepest reaches of her soul? Her mind scanned deep through her body as it lay still in the dewy grass.

A piece was missing.

"Something is missing."

"I know." Her brown-haired companion smiled up at the stars. "That's why you are with me to remember."

An image danced in her sight.

A tunnel of green, blue and white suspended on high.

She remembered.

Turning to her former self, she smiled as the wraith form became flesh, bone, and blood again.

Laying back in the cushioning of the grass was a chimerical companion. He was a little taller than she was now, dressed in a simple white shirt and black slacks with bare feet. He wore his tawny hair longer than was considered vogue in a shaggy fashion. Cinnamon brown eyes smiled back at her with a warm delight that was infectious.

The cinnamon browned eyed man watched her a the moment before he asked, "Have you remembered?"

"I remember this my secret hideaway." She said.

"That's right."

"I remember, wanting to come back here." She whispered as a distance distorted image dribbled into her memory. "I wanted to share more of myself with him: my family, my childhood, and my secret place."

The tickets had been clandestinely concealed in the tome of his thesis. His lover rarely scrolled through the literary periodicals and publications stashed upon his shelves. Therefore it had been the perfect hiding place. Every evening for a month, he had eagerly examined the documents in secrecy. Feverishly, he had counted down to the felicitous moment. He had finally planned to introduce Nowaki to the Kamijou family… before fate had disastrous intervened.

Dark sepia eyes considered her gravely. "He won't believe us."

She reservedly studied her companion. "I'll find a way to convince him."

"You will need assistance." The brown-haired man told her.

"Who?"

"I brought you here to remember." He repeated.

"A million facts stream through my head on a daily basis." She sighed frustrated by his answer. "What do you want me to recall specifically?"

A slight smile twitched at his stern lips. "The answer will come to you."

"You are so exasperating!"

A chortle of laughter escaped her companion. "I am merely a figment of your subconscious."

The figment of her imagination rose to his feet; then offered his hand out to her. Accepting the cold flesh, Hiroko clambered to stand beside her guide. Beyond the crowded copse of trees, streaks of red, orange and pink dusted the horizon. The dawn was coming.

Shadowy sounds of the real world intruded upon her repose.

She would awake soon.

One last thing troubled her.

"It was him at the metro station wasn't it?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Will he be there when I wake up?" Hiroko asked, turning to study her companion.

"I don't know. "

A zealous sensation of warmth seeped into her skin. The cinnamon eyes of her companion studied his hand at the same moment in bewilderment. The perplexing phantom touch shattered the illusionary world around them. A strange tingling touch, lingered in her hand as the wakeful world returned to her.

* * *

Blinking in the lambent light of the red morning light, she woke alone.

The first thing she remembered was staring up into those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

Tedious tentacles of pain trickled down her cheek. Rowdy voices reverberated from the corridor. Running her hand along her cheek again, she remembered parts of the incident from the night before. Beyond the door, she could identify several tongues speaking about her. The anxious accent of her aunt argued with the tell-tale recounting voice of a doctor. An excited proclamation revealed the presence of her best friend. She listened to the soft modulation of the chatter discussing the diagnosis of her injuries. Raising her hand to the dressing plastered against her cheek, she controlled the smile that threatened to erupt.

She remembered her name.

She had been Kamijou Hiroki.

She had seen Nowaki last night.

Propping herself up on her elbow, she studied the brightening room in the hope he lurked in the corners. In the Erebus emptiness of the dying shadows, she scanned the outline of the furniture. Parched dryness painful plagued her throat. Reaching forward with her free hand, she attempted to grasp the plastic cup of water perched on the bedside table. Her fingertips clumsy clasped the rim of the cylinder. Her concussed body trembled at the exertion of energy.

A squeak of shock escaped her lips.

The door swung open violently at the resounding crash, and beeping alarms triggered by her topple from the bed. Three figures swarmed to her rescue. Reassuringly, they encouraged her to sit up. The nurse fussed admonishing her to stay in bed and rest. A fresh cup of water was placed in front of her on the trolley table. Assured she had everything she needed the nurse and steward left her alone making way for Reina to enter the room taking a seat beside her bed.

"How are you feeling?" Her best friend asked as the door swung closed.

As soon as the door was shut, she pushed the covers away to scurry out of bed. Like hell, she was staying here. She had to find him. She could not wait any longer she had to go out there. Was he still here at the hospital? He had been in this very room she knew it.

"I'm Kamijou Hiroki." Hiroko declared excitedly to her partner in crime.

"I don't understand," Reina said confused by her declaration.

"I saw Nowaki last night." She announced speaking in no sensible order as she scrambled for her clothes.

"You have to be wrong," Reina said shaking her head. "The guy last night looked nothing like the Nowaki you always drew."

"Age him nineteen years and throw in a few age lines and scars," Hiroko said pulling on her jeans.

Amaya Reina pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Hiroko, you are not listening to me!"

"Look, Re-chan. I know it was him." She insisted tossing on her top over her head.

"Are you sure?" Her best friend asked trying to hide her doubt. "Sure? Could you have imagined it? You did have a concussion from hitting your head."

Hiroko felt a cold flutter up at her best friend's words.

She had heard that disbelieving tone before in the severe, stentorian words of her grandfather.

Unsure questioning aqua eyes stared back at her.

"Do you think Nowaki would just fall into your lap like that?" Reina continued biting her lip.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Hiroko accused her friend as she sat on the bed to pull on her socks.

"Eh…erm," Reina started before shrugging. "I don't know. All I know is last night the guy who came with the ambulance was called Kusama-san. Not Nowaki."

"Did you think that Nowaki might be his first name?" Hiroko asked with the roll of her eyes.

"Just stop!" Reina shouted stepping in front of her.

"Get out the way, Reina," Hiroko growled low squaring up to the other girl.

She was sick to the core of her being of people standing in her way.

She was tired of questions causing doubt in what she knew was fact.

"Hiroko, you need to rest you have a serious concussion," Reina said placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I remember other things," Hiroko said looking up at her friend. "My name was Hiroki."

The feigning masquerade that Reina played at that moment slipped. Every detail of the disbelief and doubt was simulated plainly like night and day on her friend's face. Reina was dismissing and writing everything she said now off. She could see the cogs in her friend's mind turning and chalking everything she spoke down to the befuddlement having sustained a concussion the night before. Hiroko felt her control teetering on the knife's edge as she stood up picking her bag and shoes up.

Fine, Reina didn't have to believe her just now.

That was fine, but Hiroko was leaving that hospital right then.

"Hiroko, you need to think this through," Reina said barring her exit. "What are you going to do? Walk up to this stranger and throw yourself at him? He will think you are insane!"

"What like everyone else already does?" She bit back sick of all the obstacles and doubters that had crossed her path in the last eighteen years.

Reina's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I never did. I believed every word."

"Until today," Hiroko tossed at her friend as she pushed passed Reina to leave the room.

Slowly the months blurred into each other as life just happened in a natural collision of events.

The police came the day after her discharge from hospital to take her statement.

Things strained between her and Reina.

The plan to share a flat fell apart.

She became wary of wandering out alone in the city after the incident.

Her wariness slowly evaporated though she was still cautious when out alone having received a lecture for her foolishness from her grandfather and a threat to drag her home. She moved out of her aunt and uncle's house to a small studio apartment in the Shinjuku Area of Tokyo. It was a bright, airy studio apartment divided functionally into spacious compartments to make the best use of the space. There was even a little balcony off the bedroom. She had started to grow a few window boxes of plants in her little suntrap. At least she would have fresh produce to harvest to help ward off the expense of the cost of food.

Reina even chose to sit on the other side of the lecture hall in their shared law classes. As the time ticked by and the days came and went, their friendship only seemed to become more distant. Hiroko felt let down by the person she thought she could trust most. Reina's doubts had caused her misgivings to grow. Without Hiroko holding her back, Reina flourished at the university. Every day she seemed to have new social invites by varies different groups. She fitted in with ease amongst the other students without Hiroko. Her looks attracting the attention of most of the male population. Girls tried to emulate her hair and style. There were always some hangers-on vying for her attention.

Hiroko had felt some jealousy stir in the first few lonely weeks.

As she settled into the flow of university and the summer semester rolled in, she was offered a part-time job by Marimo Books that worked around her studies. The discord with Reina was forgotten, and Hiroko found her stride in her life. She accepted on the spot in the interview when the store manager offered the post to her impressed by her knowledge of literature. The job was a distraction from the growing disquiet she felt inside. Every afternoon, she enjoyed stacking shelves, chatting to customers about books and answering questions authors.

Slowly, she began to find a new social group. While working on Thursday evening, she was introduced by her supervisor to a new starter Midori Chizue. She joined the company at an odd time of the year due to a sudden vacancy that popped up. She was short, slightly curvy girl with large geeky glasses and green hair that screamed out otaku from every angle. Midori was an expert on anything manga which Marimo Books had the biggest department of in the city.

"You aren't a fan of the manga?" Midori asked her as they restocked the manga section.

"I have read some in high school because my best friend was into it," Hiroko admitted as she pushed into place a colour volume on the shelf. "Truth have I preferred tomes of literature or working on my artwork than reading manga."

Midori was a student at T-university as well. She was studying technical sciences, focusing on coding and AI development. Hiroko found herself liking her otaku colleague more than she would have thought. Midori was the incredibly private person who did not waffle on about her personal issues, which endeared her to Hiroko who felt she had enough to cope with than adding new acquaintances with problems into her life. Outside of work, she found herself eating lunch with Midori several times a week in the absence of other friends to socialise with. While they had few interests in common outside of their part-time jobs, she found Midori's company soothing, and when they sat in silence together, there was no pressure to force conversation.

While waiting for Midori to finish her shift at work, she received the shock of her life when a guy approached her calling her by name. It turned out he was Midori's older boyfriend, Mutsumi Gin was a twenty-three post-graduate engineering student who was a bigger otaku then his girlfriend. He was studying at Ritsumeikan University in Kyoto but came up to visit Midori whenever he had spare time.

"It's Komori-san, right?" A strange guy asked her suddenly, the guy she would learn was Mutsumi Gin a few minutes later.

"Erm…have we met?"

"No, but my girlfriend never stops talking about you." The speckled guy smile with a big grin. "Chi thinks you are the coolest girl she knows even if you are a total normie."

Midori chose that moment to explode out the main doors of the store in a whirlwind of geekery.

"Komori, there you are I was hoping you would have waited for me…" Midori started before seeing her boyfriend. "GIN-KUN!"

"Hey Chi-Chi," Mutsumi said as he caught the flying figure of Midori as she leaped into his arms rubbing her nose against his in an affectionate gesture.

"You are early!" Midori announced with a gleeful smile.

"I switched shifts at the lab so I could get the earlier train to see you," Mutsumi replied conscious of her standing to watch the amusing exchange between the couple. "I didn't realise you had plans though."

"Oh, Komori and I walked the station at the end of our shifts together," Midori explained rolling her hands in motion.

"That's smart," Mutsumi smiled happy that his girlfriend took precautions with her safety. "It can be rough for girls alone."

"Well, I will head off and leave you to catch up," Hiroko suggested feeling a little out of place.

"Do you have any plans tonight?" Midori asked her. "We are going to play some video games if you would like to come over."

Hiroko politely declined as a normie she was a terrible gamer.

Tonight, her plans were the same as most nights when she did not have assignments or reading prep. Either swing by the library or go back to her small studio flat to continue her research. Now, she had recalled names there was a chance of finding records detailing what happened so she could piece together the vexatious jigsaw of her past. She had thought knowing her name would make her search easier if not yield results instead. The family name Kamijou turned out to be a bit more common than she thought. Without knowing the correct kanji formula, she was still looking for a needle in a haystack with hundred of entries returned in her person's search.

Midori and Mutsumi insisted on her tagging along with them for dinner and to meet up with their cosplay friends. Hiroko tried to give her excuses but three hours later found herself sitting in a circle of people she would never imagine hanging out with her life. Strangers poked and prodded her as the drinks flowed. Hiroko had never seen the anime the group believed she resembled but dressed like a boy she stood and posed for pictures feeling the laughter bubble up from deep within for the first time in weeks.

One of the famous clubs from their university descended on the bar as the anime cosplay society was wrapping up their meeting. Aqua eyes strayed to her several times as Midori, and she said her goodbyes. Hiroko stopped at the exit and looked over her shoulder towards her best friend who lingered at the edge of the group looking towards her. When a good-looking guy called her name, Reina cast a secondary glance towards her before vanishing back into the company of her new friends.

"Are you coming, Komori?" Midori asked as she slid on her coat. "We can walk to the station with you if you like."

"That would be lovely," Hiroko said following the group out without looking back.

On the walk to the station, Midori and she conversed on the idea that she once had of creating manga. Several of the clubs was thrilled with her plot ideas and suggested she should do a rough mock-up of the first chapter. People offered to read it for her and provide tips on how to stylise the manga copy too.

As the group walked to the station a tall, lanky dark-haired figure in white caused her to stop.

Looking back, Hiroko realised it was another false alarm.

Maybe, Reina had been right after all.

Was she wishfully seeing Nowaki everywhere?

As the group neared the local metro station, Hiroko heard her phone vibrated in her bag.

Fishing it out her phone the depths of her bag, she answered the unknown number. "Moshi Moshi, this Komori Hiroko."

"Good evening Komori-san, this is officer 3456 Sano-san from the Metropolitan Police Department." The caller identified themselves on the line. "Do you have time now to speak?"

The police call came out the blue nearly two months after the initial incident at the station.

Despite the delay, Hiroko welcomed the reassuring feeling that the call brought to her.

"Certainly, how can I help officer?" Hiroko said as she waved goodnight to her departing companions.

"I need to request you come down to the station tomorrow if possible for a lineup." The officer told her.

"Certainly," she answered gladly finally things were moving in the investigation. "When should I come down to the Metropolitan Police Department building for?

Police Officer Sano requested she present herself at the Metropolitan Police Department building just after lunchtime. Luckily, Midori had overheard the telephone exchange and immediately offered to sudden shifts with her to Mutsumi's dismay. A brief elbow to his gut from Midori and soft whispers promising recompense silenced his objections.

After Ancient Japanese Literature, Hiroko planned to head straight to the department. As the bell chimed the end of class everyone stared in amazement to her, as once again Hiroko who had correctly answered all their lecturer's review questions on material she had barely read due choosing to hang out with the cosplay club. Several testing questions from the lecturer, left the older man flabbergasted as it revealed Hiroko's knowledge of ancient literature was beyond a level one university-level understanding of literary studies. Shocked classmates whispered as they left watching their lecturer become animated over their discussion of the text.

The further discussion ate into her travel time to reach downtown Tokyo to arrive at the police department in time for the appointment she had. She was briefed by two officers about the process as she panted from sprinting from the station to the Metropolitan Police Department building. She stood concealed behind watching as six rough looking individuals shuffled into the viewing room. Varying builds, heights, and colouring marched into the observation area in single file. Her eyes skimmed every individual in the line up looking for the analogous details that resembling the descriptions of her earlier statement. One of the line-up distinctly unimpressed at being forced to appear rudely stuck his middle finger up in the direction of the glass. It was the eyes of the third individual that had licentious striped her the alley that gave his identity away.

The second part of the line up was to watch footage from the cameras that had been posted at the metro station. The officers wanted her to visually identify any of the suspects in the line up that she could match the line of individuals who stood before in the observation room.

"Are you ready Komori-san?" The officer said as he started the footage.

She watched the video roll through her eyes following every motion.

The thugs arrived on the platform seizing items of innocent bystanders.

She watched herself attempt to intervene and the violence executed against her.

"I recognise this man and this guy here." Hiroko indicated on the video footage. "They were individuals number 4 and 5 in the line-up you showed me."

She witnessed the train pulled onto the platform.

The gang of thugs fled.

Her breath caught in her throat as recognition set in.

Stepping onto the platform was the distinctive figure of her rescuer.

"It was Nowaki who saved me." She whispered to herself. "I knew it."

(To be continued…)


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

 **Spotify Playlist** \- Search for Fanfiction - In This Life

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

 **Dedication** : I would like to thank the following people for taking the time to review this story. Your words of support are lovely to receive so thank you for taking the time to express how much you like the story by leaving a review or following/ favouriting this story.

I love reading reviews; keeps me motivated so if you are enjoying/hating/trolling/or have something to say post a review I would be delighted to hear your thoughts.

* * *

 **Part 11 - I Found (Amber Run)**

A couple of times in your life,

It happens like that.

You meet someone,

And you know is that you need to know everything about them.

 **~ Lisa Kleypas ~**

How hard is it to find a grave?

The answer was absolutely bloody impossible! Komori Hiroko sat in the research library frustrated and at her wits end trying to locate a name in a see of records working back from the year she had been born. So far, the name Kamijou had not appeared to be overly familiar which had given her hope. She was back ten years before her birth, and her patience was growing thinner by the second. She must have missed something despite her fastidious checking. Moving the mouse on her computer back to the first page, she started reading down the list of characters carefully rechecking each name.

Maybe, she had misremembered the kanji.

Opening her kanji dictionary, she flicked between pages looking for the characters she had written down. She scanned through the list of words that seemed similar to the characters in the name she remembered. While there were many kanji in parentheses for a title meant there could be thousands of individual ways of writing the name Hiroki. However, she was pretty sure that hers had been written in the form of hiro as in clever or vigorous and ki for brightness. The kanji matches to her former name were hampering her search in identifying newspaper articles relating to car accidents that might give her precise date of death which she could narrow down the year in which to search for a burial record. How professional genealogists coped with these frustrations on a daily basis, she did not know.

With a sigh, she resigned herself that today's searches had again been unfruitful.

Across the library, she saw Midori walking towards the returns station with an armful of books. Her green-haired friend smiled and gestured with a small wave from across the room. Hiroko waited at her desk as Midori finished scanning the pile of books she was returning from loan. Her friend as she suspected hurried over to her as soon as she dropped the last book into the returns box.

"Hi, Komori!" Midori whispered as she stopped next to her desk. "Not at work tonight?"

"No," she replied to the green-haired girl. "I am just in the middle of some research."

"What are you researching?" Midori asked peering down at her computer screen.

"I was just…" Hiroko started to say as she was interrupted by a squeak from the other girl.

"Oooh! Are you into family history?" Midori asked excitedly slipping uninvited into the empty seat beside her.

"Exactly! That's what I am doing." Hiroko said delightedly at the filler explanation. "Some research on a distant relation who died."

"Not having much luck on your face." Her friend said with a frown.

"No, getting the Kanji match of the names is proving tricky." She admitted scanning back down the page.

"Hmmm," Midori said glancing down the reference page of the index. "Did you ever consider your past relatives might have purchased a death name?"

Hiroko groaned and raised the heel of her hand to her face.

Why had she not thought of that?

If the Kamijou family had been a traditional clan, upon her past self's death, they would have purchased a death name. Conventional families like hers were usually Shinto practicing and very conservative, they would have wanted to ensure every funeral right was observed to the letter. Purchasing a kamiyo to safeguard the departed loved one rest in peace was a big business in some traditional circles. Millions of yen could be spent just on a simple name. Families sometimes had to purchase a name completely different than the name their loved one had in life.

Another hurdled to overcome.

She might have found another dead end.

She had assumed Nowaki would have handled the funeral arrangements as her co-habiting partner. From her recollection, they had a modesty lifestyle together. She had supposed that if anything had happened. Nowaki would have buried her as Kamijou Hiroki. Maybe her family had railroaded the funeral and pushed him out. Having a son who was gay was unlikely to go down well in a traditional family. She snippets she thought she remembered about her family. No great detail though. If they had not adopted Nowaki into the family, the burial responsibilities would have fallen to the Kamijou family.

"Hey, Komori," Midori said as she was lost in her thoughts. "How are you related to Kamijou Hiroki?"

"Huh?" Hiroko replied looking Midori confused for a moment. "Oh. We are… distant cousins."

"This might sound a bit of a weird question, but did he die in a road traffic accident on the 14th February 2013?" Midori asked with a weird tone to her voice.

Hiroko turned to look at her companion her interest sparked by the date that Midori mentioned.

"Potentially, I don't specific details yet, but there was a car involved," Hiroko replied curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Komori, your relative saved my mum's life when she was pregnant with me!"

The memory brutally erupted into her mind's eye as Midori spoke. The unrestrained blanking out the real world around her filling her senses full of the chill of the rain against her skin, the boiling din of the police siren and toxic taste of car exhaust fuels as the world commuted home. Her breath came faster and faster as adrenaline surged through her body as her mind slipped from her world to the last fragments of Kamijou Hiroki's.

The squeal of the tyres had ripped through his mind.

He felt the breath catch in his chest as he realised in terror the drive was ploughing straight for him.

Bolt now his mind screamed.

He could have run mere feet and been safe from the out of control car.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw the frozen horror written on the pregnant woman's face.

He had spun on his heel launching in the space between them.

His fingers collided with her chest forcing her backward.

He had shoved with all incredible strength at that moment.

Like a ragdoll, she had flown backward falling in an endless moment.

He watched the pregnant woman fly clear of the impact zone as he fell before the headlights.

As he waited for the inevitable impact, he wondered why he had turned back.

Because he would never have been able to face Nowaki again like a coward.

The burning ache of tears formed in the corner of her eyes as last emerging thought blurred away. Tears leaked from the edge of her eyes as she started sobbing uncontrollably. The pain and sensation of losing too much to keep inside as her breathing spiked accelerating to a panicky hyperventilating rate.

"Oh my god, Komori! I need help over here!" She heard Midori shout out. "I think she has a panic attack."

In breakneck speed familiar, Aqua eyes appeared in front of her.

"Breath Roko-chan," Reina instructed her. "Come on the breath with me. In and out. In and out."

Reina sat with her as she struggled to control her breathing. With the assistance of Midori, she led Hiroko out of the library to a bench in the grounds of the university campus. As she breathed in the fresh air, each breath became a little easier. She watched as Reina waved off Midori who had to go to another class before the end of the afternoon. Reina fished out a bottle of water from her bag to hand to her as her breathing returned to normal.

Opening the bottle of water that Reina handed her, she asked. "Why did you do that?"

"You were in a state," Reina said casting a look down at her. "Like I could just walk away from you when you were like that."

"Thank you," Hiroko replied looking up at Reina. "I appreciate that. I have missed you."

"Me too." Reina expressed with a tender smile. "I am sorry I doubted you. I have felt crappy since as I am the one who promised to support you in this quest no matter what."

"Water under the bridge," Hiroko said offering her hand to her best friend.

Reina sniffed back the tears as she pulled her into a hug. "Friends again?"

"The very best." She replied tightening the hug as Reina blubbered into her shoulder.

Sitting the bench outside the university library, they talked backward and forwards for nearly two hours. Each, in turn, discussing the last couple of months events and news. Reina's news had mostly been about settling into student life and being selected for student council. She was still living at her father's condo at the moment having failed to find a flatmate suitable to share with. Her father was firmly putting his foot down about her living on her own. Hiroko kept quiet sensing it was a sensitive subject, and she did not want to rock the boat just as Reina was starting to talk to her again.

Her news was mostly about her job and continuing her quest for Nowaki.

"No way!" Reina exclaimed reaching forward to grab her hand. "You work at the bookshop with all those hotties!"

"Oh yuck!" Hiroko laughed at her best friend. "You mean all those spotty preening jerks?"

"Well, those too." Reina beamed back. "Do you want to come hang out tonight? I heard you tell Midori-san you don't have to work tonight."

"Reina, I am not a fan of bar hopping."

"It is just a class social at just one bar that some of the guys in our law class have organized," Reina said reading from her phone. "Wanna come?"

The meetup was in full swing as they arrived. Reina badgered her into returning to her father's apartment to get ready for the evening. Leaving her laptop, books and studying materials at the condo, Hiroko stepped out for the evening borrowing on of Reina's dresses from her best friend's extensive wardrobe. She wore a beautiful forest green dress that fell stylishly to the knee with a casual denim jacket matched with her lace-up ankle boots. Reina wore a stunning backless dress of steely aqua that enhanced the vibrant depth of her eye color.

Several people cast confused looked between Reina and her as they arrived.

Most of the student recognised her from their classes and seminars.

Most had never seen her outside of class let alone talking to the most popular girl in their class.

"Hey everyone, this is Komori," Reina said introducing her to the group that sat on the bench table.

Hiroko took a seat opposite Reina at the table. She was involved with others in the conversation for a while until eventually resorted to just watching the guys and girls chatting and drinking. As the hours dragged by, she regretful wished she had brought a book with her to the basement area of the bar where social was taking place.

"Aren't you interested in meeting anyone, Hiroko?" One of the girls at the group table asked her.

"Er… Not really, the guys here seem rather childish." She replied watching a couple of the guys messing around with creating a vile concoction from everyone else's drinks.

The girl beside her followed her line of sight with a grimace.

"Those two are just idiots. Does that mean you like older guys like me?"

Drunkenly, Reina shouted across the table interrupting the conversation. "Roko-chan is in love with a 40-something guy she has never met before! Her bloody precious Nowaki-san!"

Hiroko frowned at her best friend wondering how much alcohol Reina had drunk in the last hour.

"OK." The girl said widening her eyes at Reina's outburst. "So, you like older guys like me then?"

"I guess so; I just want more than some guy looking to get into my knickers," Hiroko answered honestly.

"You're a pure romantic type then." Another student smiled bobbing along to the music.

"You could say that." She replied with a smile. "I will meet someone one day."

"I'm going to go get another drink." The amber-eyed guy across the table announced to them. "Do you want anything?"

"Another Ramune for me," the girl next to her requested. "Maybe don't get anything for Amaya, she is sozzled as it is."

"And you?" The guy smiled at her.

"The same is fine," Hiroko said as she rose to her feet to head the bathroom.

There was a commotion starting above near the bar as Hiroko returned from the ladies.

Glancing back to the table, she noticed Reina was missing.

"Where is Reina?" She asked the girl next to her.

"Up at the bar with a couple of the guys," the following student replied as she counted out the money to cover her share of the evening. "I am heading home. They are getting into trouble for being drunk. The owner is threatening to call the police. You should probably get out of here too."

Hiroko thanked her classmate. "Thank you; I will just go find Reina to let her know I am leaving."

Heading to the bar, she witnessed the start of the night's commotion. She watched in horror as the uproar started between several students and professionals at the bar as Reina drunkenly smashed a tray of drinks to the floor as she toppled backward escaping the second attempt at a grope from a sandy-brown haired older man who's hand she smacked away seconds before.

* * *

The call had come as he had been sitting in his office tying up odds and ends of his patients' paperwork. His usual routine on a Friday night. A frantic female voice of one his former colleagues greeting him begging for an assistant. The bane of his life was in trouble again. Tsumori was a curse that continued to linger over him like a dark cloud long after he had quit working with the man. Nearly a decade had passed since he had worked at the university hospital with this team. When Tsumori became too much for them to handle they always reached out to him.

Stepping into the bar, Nowaki surveyed the gathering of drinkers.

His dark cobalt eyes are scanning face for familiar ones of his old hospital colleagues. He recognised the face of one of the former nurses from his former pediatrics unit. Relief washed over her face as she beckoned him over with a wave.

"Apologies for calling you out Kusama-sama," the nurse apologised to him. "We didn't know what to do."

He touched her arm comfortingly. "You did the right thing. I know how much trouble Tsumori can cause drunk or not."

"We didn't know who else to call." The nurse admitted looking gratefully up to him.

His former mentor had been causing trouble with a group of female students that were part of a student social. The Tsumori inebriated tongue had issued indecorous sexual suggestions in the ear of a few of the prettier girls. His hands had wandered as he stood at the bar depravedly feeling up an equally sloshed student whose friends had not reacted kindly to the older man's lecherous pawing of her person.

"This one girl just walked up to him knocking him down." The junior doctor recanted to the group.

"She poured a drink over him calling him a licentious immoral bastard." The nurse continued.

"That girl was seriously scary." Another of the junior doctors piped in with a shiver.

"Where is he?" Nowaki asked the group.

"Fujita-san took him the bathroom to pour water over his head." The nurse told him. "We have been trying to sober him up to take him home."

With a sigh, Nowaki headed to the back of the bar to the restrooms to try fish his drunkard of a colleague out of the establishment before he caused any more incidents or groped any more ladies that evening. He found the babysitting junior doctor nursing a Tsumori who sat worshipping at the toilet bowl emptying his stomach of what appeared a considerable amount of alcohol.

"I am guessing you are Fujita," Nowaki said to the younger doctor.

"Hai, Kusama-san," the younger resident doctor answered.

"Will you go out and tell the others to get ready to leave while I sort Tsumori," he told the younger doctor.

Leaning back against the stall, he resided himself to wait.

All they could now was wait for Tsumori to be in a fit state to be moved.

Over the next thirty minutes, he patiently tended to his former mentor. Cleaning up the older doctor and the mess of the bathroom. Sending Fujita backward and forwards with messages to the group. Kindly the nurse had spoken with the bartender and the owner to calm the situation and settle the drinks bill. The owner was still displeased and threatening action with the police according to the reports back to him. However, the owner had expressed in the end as long as someone took on the burden of responsibility for the damages he would abstain from involving the police. He also was demanding an apology to his staff. It took Fujita and Nowaki to carry the still sozzled Tsumori through the bar. Apologising to others as they staggered with the older drunken doctor to the door. The nurse had gathered up Tsumori's bag ready to leave keen to be gone from the bar as soon as possible.

The old straw-haired doctor even drunk was a handful.

While preparing to leave with him, Tsumori made unwelcome comments about the female sex.

"Tsumori-san, I think you are going a little far!" Nowaki growled at his former colleague who lewdly eyed up the group of college girls as they scurried pass heading for the exit.

"She is just playing hard to get!" Tsumori grinned drunkenly.

"Look, you are drunk! Let's go so you can sleep it off." Nowaki said firmly grasping his former senpai by the elbow. "It was clear she wasn't interested in you."

"I'll take him home, Nowaki-senpai." One of the junior doctors offered.

"Thank you, Fujita," Nowaki replied with a nod to the junior doctor. "I better go try smooth things over the bartender if he was threatening to call the police, Tsumori can't afford any more trouble."

The bartender was a smartly dressed man wearing a white shirt, waistcoat and apron over his uniform. Nowaki waited for him to finish serving customers before he returned to him. The bartender's eyes told Nowaki everything before they exchanged words. The commotion had not wanted the bartender had signed on for that evening.

Bowing, Nowaki expressed his sincere apologies on behalf of his former colleague. "Please accept my humble apologies for my colleague. I will see that he makes amends for the damage he caused."

"Hmph. A doctor should be more respectable." The bartender snorted in disgust.

Nowaki flinched at the harsh words. "I agree, please forgive him. It is no excuse, but he recently got divorced from his wife; it has been a difficult time."

"Look… Kusama-sama," the bartender said looking down at his card. "I appreciate you are coming back to give me these details for the repairs to my broken glassware, but the fact is your colleague is a bloody disgrace. If I were you, I would report this to you seniors and stay clear of that trouble."

"The bar owner has agreed not to call the police," the bartender confirmed. "Your friend is bloody lucky he did not end up with criminal charges for damage. The students might still cause a problem."

A cold chill went up to his spine.

Nowaki had forgotten about the girl who had been at the root of the commotion. Tsumori had grabbed her roughly, and when he kicked the bar stool at the guy with her who was defending her, she had been knocked over.

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah, there are some medical students with the mixer group downstairs who patched her up." The bartender replied. "She has gone home with some of the group, but her friends are downstairs still."

"Do you think any of them would speak to me?" Nowaki asked to try to assess the damage control needed.

"Stay there." The bartender told him. "I will go ask if anyone will talk to you about it."

Nowaki stood leaning against the bar deliberating what to say.

The bartender returned a moment later. "One of the girls said she would come up to see you."

At the sound of footsteps, Nowaki turned to greet the approaching individual.

Looking up he instantly recognized the profile of the young woman walking towards the bar.

It was her!

Nowaki caught his jaw before it dropped at the sight of the student he had tended at the metro station.

Her eyes flared wide in recognition as she saw him.

"It's you." She whispered as her sorrel eyes surveying every inch of his face.

"Komori-san," he greeted her with a nod. "How is your face?"

"Good thanks to your magic touch." She replied turning her head to the side revealing the soft curvature of her high cheekbones.

The perfect skin of her cheek was unmarked by the laceration it has sustained months before.

"It has healed well," he said with a smile.

An awkward silence stretched out for a moment before they both spoke in unison.

"I am sorry about my colleague to bother your friend." He said.

"I am sorry for the rowdy behavior tonight." She said at the same moment.

He felt himself chuckle as they realised they had spoken together in union.

"I am sorry to intrude on your evening," he apologised to her. "I wanted to ask how your friend was and apologise for the unwelcome attentions of my colleague."

"I am sure there is two at fault here," Hiroko said glancing into the soft blue eyes he studied her. "Reina had quite a bit to drink as well. I have to apologise for pouring the drink over your colleague too."

After a stunned moment, Nowaki laughed. "That was you?"

She looked deeply uncomfortable as she nodded in response to his question.

"I reacted badly." She responded fidgeting with embarrassment. "Sometimes, it hard to keep your cool and act like an adult in moments your temper gets the better of you."

"You were protecting a friend." He replied thinking of several instances he had reacted on instinct. "We all react purely on instinct at some point. I have done it too."

As slow, shy smile tugged at her lips as she glanced up at him through her fringe.

A fizzle of pure electricity shot down his spine, igniting dormant feelings deep in his core.

Who was this girl?

"These are my details," Nowaki said his throat feeling drier than the Sahara Desert as his body responded to her smile. "If you need anything in the next few days, for your friend, please contact me. I will get everything sort for you with no charge or questions."

As she read the card, a pleased look appeared on her face. "Your name is Kusama Nowaki."

"Yes." He replied a little puzzled by the statement.

"It's an unusual name." She replied to seeing the confused look on his face.

"I suppose." He replied with a smile. "It means typhoon."

"Nowaki." She whispered as a beautiful smile of pure delight spread across her face.

A thrilling tremor passed down his spine as she whispered his name.

He found he liked how she said his name.

Her voice sounded like it caressed the Now with gentle wonder.

"What the hell are you doing?" A male voice asked crossly from behind her.

Together they frozen at the voice that interrupted the moment passing between them.

"Are you trying to bribe her not to press charges?" An amber-eyed male asked stopping to stand behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Hiroko studied the amber-eyed stranger wondering who the hell he was.

Had he been part of the student social?

She did not recognise him as being one of Reina's social circle.

"I am sorry," Nowaki said with a sigh. "I was not attempting to bribe anyone. Even if you press charges against my acquaintance, I wasn't involved in the brawl. I was just here past on my details in case they need."

"I'll take it from here, Komori." The guy said with a dismissive tone to her. "I am warning you, we are law students, and I will happily report this to the police officers!"

Cobalt eyes darkened at the rude behaviour towards Komori.

Gritting his teeth, Nowaki thrust his hands in his pockets as they formed fists.

He needed to leave before he did something he would regret later.

He didn't understand why this girl invoked his protective instincts like this.

"That's enough," Hiroko said whipping around defensively in front of him.

Nowaki felt his eyebrows raise in surprise at her protective response to him.

Noticing the business card in her hand, the amber-eyed guy thrust his hand out demandingly in front of her face. "Better give me that card too. It's evidence."

Nowaki watched as Komori thrust the business card into her pocket.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Baka!" She stood with a dark, thunderous look twisting her face together as she bit out.

This was getting out of hand.

He had only come over to do the right thing feeling a sense of responsibility.

He felt a hesitancy of regret at leaving her, but his presence was only aggravating the situation.

"Look, I am sorry for my colleague's behaviour tonight." He repeated himself to the amber-eyed youth. "I will be leaving now, please enjoy the rest of your night."

Hiroko watched in momentary shock as Nowaki retreated.

"Good riddance." The amber-eyed guy smirked at the retreating doctor.

"You're a prat!" She snarled at him as she hurried after her Nowaki.

Nowaki felt a spatter of rain as he stepped out of the bar.

He shivered at the coldness of the spring rain droplet that slid down the back of his coat.

"Wait! Kusama-san!"

Turning around he found Komori stood panting in the doorway.

He found himself staring down into lovely sorrel eyes that seemed to embrace his face with each look.

"I wanted to say sorry for those buffoons back there," Komori said drawing herself up as she caught her breath. "Being intoxicated always brings out the worst in people."

"Honestly, it's alright." He replied feeling bad she had run out after him to apologise on behalf of others. "I promise I wasn't offended. He was trying to look out for you."

"I don't know why," she blinked in confusion. "I don't think he has ever spoken to me before."

A loud, hungry gurgling noise emitted itself from her slight frame.

She flushed bright red with embarrassment that shot to the tips of her ears.

Nowaki bit down on a smile at the cuteness of it.

"Have you eaten this evening?" Nowaki asked her.

"No, I was not expecting to be out this late, to be honest." She replied back.

"There is a diner; I tend to go to sometimes on the way to the station if you would like to join me."

"I would be delighted to join you for dinner."

Ten minutes' walk from the bar was the diner that Nowaki had mentioned.

It was a merely styled establishment catering food for a range of customers.

The hostess that greeted them was undoubtedly on friendly terms with Kusama-san.

 _Almost flirty_ , Hiroko thought to herself.

Kusama-san seemed to relax as they entered the bright, airy space of the restaurant. The hostess seated them at a window table, which appeared to be his preferred spot. It looked like an old habit to sit in a booth together watching the world pass by the window. The street was quite as she glanced out the window. A few people walked on their way somewhere glued to their phones, listening to music or just surviving the humdrum routine of going from point A to point B in their day.

"Will it be the usual order tonight, Kusama-sama?" The hostess asked as they took their seats.

"Yes, please."

"And for your friend?" The hostess asked turning to her with a reproving once overlook.

"White Jasmine tea, dōzo." Hiroko smiled politely back inwardly cursing the other woman.

"I'll get those drinks for you, Kusama." The hostess said turning back to Nowaki. "Here are the menus for you to look at meanwhile.

"Arigatou gozaimasu." Nowaki murmured politely back as he accepted the menu.

The hostess cast her another sour look before heading off.

How dare that hostess to think she had the monopoly on Kusama Nowaki!

He belonged heart, body, and soul to her alone.

"Aren't you concerned that people might wonder about our age difference?" She asked him.

Nowaki glanced up from the menu to her with a frown. "It hadn't crossed my mind, to be honest."

Typical Nowaki, she thought to open her menu to look at the dishes on offer. He had always been a bit of an airhead; it seemed even eighteen years of life experience had not changed that fact. The thought made her smile on her menu.

She was glad somethings never changed.

When the hostess returned with their drinks, Nowaki suggested ordering a selection of side dishes and swore the ramen was the best in the city. The hostess blushed at his praise and fawned terribly over his kind words unnoticed by Nowaki. They discussed the pleasantries as their food was prepared and delivered to the table.

"You can call me Hiroko if you like," she told him desperately wanting him to stop being so formal. "It seems so formal for you to call me Komori, especially as you have already saved my life once."

"Erm, alright." He hesitated for a moment. "Would you like to call me Nowaki then?

"Who is Nowaki then?" She said before taking a bite of her chopsticks.

As they ate, Nowaki filled her in on the years she had missed with him. He practiced general medicine in his practice based here in this neighbourhood. He skirted around the reasons for the change of focus in his medical profession. Hiroko did not need to press him for further details. She had figured out already the shift in direction probably had something to do with how he had put his life back together. He never mentioned the suicide she once dreamed off or touched on any details about lovers. He owned his apartment. Enjoyed an active lifestyle with several interests and voluntary activities. He told her about his origins at the orphanage, and how he volunteered with the establishment with every free moment, he was able to.

"Are you married?" She slipped in cautiously desperate for details on his romantic attachments.

His ocean blue eyes darkened for a moment. "No, I am not married."

Could she spit it out here in this public place to ask are you gay? In a relationship? Probably not. The caution of Reina's voice replayed in her mind. It was too soon to blurt out strange, outlandish statements.

She wanted to break every social etiquette and scream out who she really was.

Hiroko acknowledged now that Reina had been right with the words she had said the morning in the hospital. She could not walk up to Nowaki and declare she was his Hiro-san. Deep down she felt her Nowaki would not react badly; he would be delighted to discover his Hiro-san found his way back to him. Or at least the romantic trashy headed lover she had lived with would have thought that. This version of Nowaki possessed a distance aura that she did not recall.

She would have to play this cautiously. If she launched into revealing who she was guns blazing then she might lose Nowaki forever. His reluctance to mention his life prior to fifteen years ago in great detail spoke volumes to her. It appeared even today this was a painful and traumatic era of his life. Losing Hiro-san would have devastated the Nowaki she had known.

Fate was not like a human break-up. Nowaki had once fought and refused to accept their brief break-up. He had forcefully clawed his way back into her life in order to have his say. Death however in life had the final say. Nowaki's response had been to try to end his life rather than endure a life without his Hira-san. Fate had mercifully delivered Nowaki safely through that episode as here he was sitting before her. To her, that was a sign he was meant to be hers once more to love. She would fight nail, tooth, and claw if necessary to make that happen. However, she had to play this out patiently.

Slow and steady so when she told him the truth, he would believe her story.

The challenge was going to get Nowaki to accept her.

Looking up at him through her lashes, something inside stirred her.

She found him attractive despite his older look.

At forty-eight years old, Kusama Nowaki still had the power to turn heads. Like a fine wine, he had aged to an exceptional vintage. He always possessed a lean trimmed figure indicating he took care of his health and body. The dark rings of exhaustion that once blemished his skin as a resident doctor not longer marked his skin. The odd salt and peppering of streaks of silver had grown in at his temples as he had aged. Probably the only indicator that the man before her was over the age of forty. The smile from his eyes was missing also. The sparkle that one graced his shimmering sapphire eyes was absent. His cobalt eyes still shone with the same cheerful countenance he possessed, but deeper in his orbs was a vacant haunted appearance.

"Tell me a bit about yourself." He suggested taking a sip from his ramen bowl.

The conversation lasted for hours as they sat in the booth discussing various topics and giggling like naughty school children over shared life experience and passions. Nowaki could not remember the last time he had just clicked with another person on an intimate level like this.

Probably since his initial meeting with Hiro-san, he thought.

Nowaki watched her as she spoke about her passion for literature. Every infatuated appreciative word that she said about the authors she admired and the books she reverently adored tugged at his heart. Her sorrel eyes glowed with passion as she spoke about the literature she was studying or had read in the past. The flash of delight that animated her eyes as he responded in kind to the texts she mentioned. Many of those books had been in his Hiro-san collection. In the last decade, he had read many of the books that surrounded him. Those tombs he had refused to part with as they were the last connection to his Hiro-san. Every word he had read bridged the divide between him and his lover in the other life. Now those same words allowed him to feel connected to another soul. A fantastic connection that he lived believing he would never feel again.

"I used to know someone who loved books as much as you." Nowaki smiled his blue eyes brightly shimmering with amusement.

She was left breathless by the incredible sight of the exceptional sapphire blue colour of his eyes. Those were the eyes she remembered watching her with gentle, loving and surprised expressions during their relationship. All she wanted to tell him at that moment was who she was.

Biting down on her tongue, she held back as hostess approached their table.

"Sumima sen, Kusama-san." The hostess interrupted with an apologetic look. "It is almost one o'clock in the morning. I just wanted to let you know we would be closing shortly. Gomen nasai."

"No worries," Nowaki replied with a smile. "Thank you for an incredible evening; I apologise if we have been an inconvenience."

"Not at all, Kusama-sama." The hostess replied with a smile. "I will bring the bill right to you just now."

"I can't believe it is so late!" Hiroko said pulling a face. "I have probably missed the last train home."

"Sorry, this might be a bit forward. But would you like to come back to my apartment for a coffee?" Nowaki offered her. "You can wait for the first train to start running in a few hours' time. Or I can lend you the money for a taxi?"

Her heart raced as she blushed joyously as her Nowaki had just invited home with him.

The distance vibe she had felt from him had fallen away.

Hiroko stared at him for an intense indecisive moment.

Dare she accepts his invitation?

Wasn't this dangerous or inappropriate?

Was she taking advantage of her selfish reasonings?

Nowaki still was the knight in shining armor that she remembered. The kind, generous very forward soul who lived by his own rules. A man who believed in love at first sight which once could not let her go out of fear he would never see Hiro-san again. He forced his way into her life with his demand for tutoring to go to university. He was a whirlwind ride like a typhoon that once had to change her world for the better.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt herself nod in response. "Alright."

"I don't want you to be wandering around with nowhere safe to go," Nowaki said with a smile of relief.

Hiroko shook her head again, feeling as if words had deserted her.

Her Nowaki had just invited home with him.

(To be continued…)


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** In This Life

 **Tagline:** Could love to prove to be stronger than death?

 **Genre: romance/drama/ character death/rebirth/yaoi**

 **Disclaimer:**

All characters and rights of the Junjou Romantica manga and anime series belong to Shungiku Nakamura and her publishers Blu. This fanfiction has the intention of earning any royalties or money. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment for the Junjou Romantica.

All chapter titles are suggestive music titles that influenced my inspiration for the direction of this story and are the property of the artists who took the time to write and record them. Please find the In This Life playlist available on Spotify.

 **Spotify Playlist** \- Search for Fanfiction - In This Life

Other works based on events of this story are in progress so please look out for **Junjou Terrorist story: All Those Yesterdays and Junjou Romantica story: Both Sides of Now** shortly.

 **Dedication** : I would like to thank the following people for taking the time to review this story. Your words of support are wonderful to receive so thank you for taking the time to express how much you like the story by leaving a review or following/ favouriting this story.

I love reading reviews; definitely keeps me motivated so if you are enjoying/hating/trolling/or have something to say post a review I would be delighted to hear your thoughts.

* * *

 **Part 12: Come and Get Me (Sleeping Wolf)**

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring,

All of which have the potential to turn a life around.

 **~ Leo Buscaglia ~**

Jittery fingers twisted the key in the lock.

The stiff latch groaned repinely as the door slowly swung open.

A nervous breath caught in his dry throat.

An algid shiver of uncertainty trespassed down his spine.

Releasing the hesitate breath he held, Nowaki stepped over the threshold into his apartment, followed by the dainty step of his guest who entered behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he met Hiroko's gaze who beamed a small, encouraging smile up at him. He wished that smile had set him at ease; it only seemed to agitate his nerves all the more and stir parts of him he thought long dead.

 _Stop being a pervert._ Nowaki chided himself.

"Make yourself at home," he said with a nervous smile. "The living area is just through the door on the right. I will be right with you."

"Alright," she replied. "I will see you in a moment then."

He watched Hiroko disappear into the living room.

Stepping into the main guest bathroom, he took a deep breath and fell against the door.

Pulling a shaky hand through his ebony locks, Nowaki stared into the mirror at his reflection. Sitting in the next room was a girl just blossoming into her adulthood. A specimen of the opposite sex who aroused a dangerous desire and stirred his protective instincts with every gesture or look. She was a torturous living, breathing reminder of his Hiro-san.

God, it was so wrong what he wanted to steal from those innocent lips.

For crying out loud, he was a forty-eight-year-old man.

He could be her father.

 _Grandfather at a push_ , he grimaced to himself.

And she was a young woman!

A woman!

Nowaki stared at himself in the mirror trying to calculate how long had it been since he had been with a woman. He tried to count the years from that single disastrous occasion he lost his virginity. Was it thirty or thirty-two years since that awkward situation with that girl from the orphanage? A pang of guilt traveled through his gut as he struggled to remember her name. He had accepted long ago that he would probably never be with a woman again. Not that it has been a bad thing; he was a more confident lover with his Hiro-san. He had always been polite and pleasant to the girls who born had a crush on him. It was a knack; he skilled himself to know early on in life, how to let them down gently.

Grasping the sink edge tightly, he took a deep breath.

He knew how to do this. He could reject her. Make her tea, talk about the situation, softly let her down and then send her home.

It should have been an easy plan to execute.

As he stepped out the bathroom, Nowaki placed a mask of confidence on before briefly stepping into the open plan living space. He entered the dimly lit room bathed in moonlight. She stood in the silvery light staring out the window at the cityscape below. At that moment, his breath caught in his throat at the beautiful vision presented before him. His eyes caressed every inch of the silhouette standing in the moon's luminescence. It almost shattered his heart.

The words slipped breathlessly from his lips. "Hiro-san."

Thankfully she did not hear his words as she stood watching the world below them.

Autopilot seemed to steal control of his body. He walked up behind her with only one intention. His body craved to hold this phantom before him. He wanted to seek solace and love in the arms of his Hiro-san.

He stopped behind her.

"What an incredible view," she sighed softly.

"Yes, it is." He replied thinking of only the form in front of him, not the cityscape beyond.

He watched her what seemed like an eternity.

Each second the urge growing stronger.

It was like the first time all over again with Hiro-san.

The overwhelming longing in his heart broke free like a damn collapsing and a tidal wave of emotion controlled his every action. There was no control. At the moment he felt like he could not hold back. Memories of the moment of their union in the library replayed in his mind. Quickly, he was swept away by a typhoon of feeling that stirred him up and made him lose control.

He relinquished his control and surrendered to fate knowing this felt right in a world of wrong.

Groaning, Nowaki knew there was turning away from this moment.

A gasp escaped her lips as his hands slipped around her waist drawing her back to rest against his chest. His touch made her body quiver. The collision of her slightly curved body sent a jolt down to his core, and electrical fissions of arousal raced throughout him.

They stood there bathed in the shining moonlight feeling the race of each other heartbeats.

The silence stretched out for a moment before She pulled away from him, in that second, he felt his heart tremble. Casting his cerulean eyes down to the ground in shame as he lowered his arms and prepared to mumble apologies. Taking a shaky breath, she turned in his arms to face him, slipping deeper into his embrace. His arms shook slightly before enclosing around the slender figure in his hold. Her hand shook slightly, as she let it slide up his chest to rest over his beating heart. Nowaki heard her gulp nervously, looking down his cobalt orbs met her warm henna ones as desire flared in their depths.

At that moment, he appreciated how young and innocent the girl was in his arms.

No, he chided himself, how young and innocent the woman in his arms was.

"I have to confess something." She murmured hesitantly. "I've never done this before."

Nowaki gently frowned as he gazed down into the lovely face. "Never done what?"

"I haven't been intimate with anyone before." Hiroko blushed, averting her gaze from his.

Stunned by the declaration, Nowaki looked down with honest confusion on his face.

"I haven't kissed anyone either!" She bit out a blush staining her cheeks in the moonlight.

A thrill of delight rushed through him.

Nowaki lowered his head slowly, watching her eyes each second of the descent, giving her opportunity to pull away. Instead, she lifted her face to let his lips graze softly against her own. The soft unskilled touch of her lips proved to him she was indeed innocent; he groaned deepening their kiss as the reality of being the first washed over him he deepened the kiss. A primal instinct stoked his arousal, he was the first to claim these lips, and he might be the first to sink into the depths of her warm, soft body.

Breaking the kiss, Nowaki softly rested his forehead against hers.

"I confess; it has been an incredibly long time since I was with someone," he admitted in a whisper.

Her heart skipped a beat at his declaration.

Did that mean there had been no one else since her? She never was able to raise her question aloud at that moment. Dropping another gentle kiss on her lips, he elicited a soft moan from her mouth, causing her heart to soar as the tender kiss progressed.

A suggestive nibble of her lower lip caused her to gasp.

Taking advantage of the slight parting of her lips, Nowaki agilely opened his mouth, letting his tongue rub against her lower lip. She gave herself up to the mastery of his kiss. She pressed her lips against his, opening herself up entirely to him, desperately enjoying the sensation of how their mouths seemed to fit together perfectly. Nowaki felt her arms tighten around his neck as she pulled her body closer to his, the collision with his frame caused her moan delightfully into their kiss.

Every stroke was breathtakingly perfect, Nowaki struggled to keep his composure and remain gentle as the kiss stole his breath away, leaving him light-headed desperate for air but frantically not wanting to break their kiss. In the mesmerising fog of the kiss, he struggled to recall a kiss in his life that had enchanted him so. The returned innocent desire and longing in that kiss left him eager to experience more of it.

Nowaki broke off the kiss, panting for breath as he stared into Hiroko's flushed face. His eyes traced up her face admiring the reddened lips from their passionate exchange and the wide sorrel pupils staring back in wonder at him. Lifting his hand to brush his fingers through her soft hair, he drank in the exquisiteness of the moment.

"Hiroko…" Nowaki panted softly, fighting the urge to kiss her again. "Do you… Are you sure you want to this?"

A questioning look appeared in her eyes at the question open-ended question. Hiroko felt her heart melt at the wanton gaze written across his face but sensed earnest restraint holding him back. She knew if stepped back now she could refuse; Nowaki would respect her wishes. She had so much to tell him first, but her subconscious banished any further deliberation that her mind quibbled for reflecting on the logical arguments for the pros and cons of this. Her heart just wanted to revel in the passionate, prurient embrace of this man she had experience in her dreams. She longed to wake to know for herself the real sensation of passionate lovemaking that great authors, lyrists, and poets wrote about.

She was such an open book with her emotions he found.

Her gaze softened as a sultry gleam crept into her eyes, he knew at that moment her answer.

Releasing a breath that he didn't realise she was holding, Nowaki sank into another tussling kiss letting his hands tangled in her hair. As her fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck, she felt his hands fall from her locks to caress their way down her body slowly. With another groan, he pulled himself away from her lips and stooped slightly to hoist her into his arms.

"Nowaki!" she gasped tightening her arms around his neck for safety. "What are you doing?"

He replied with a sensual smiled as he started to carry her towards what she assumed was his bedroom. He held her tightly close to his chest but with a gentle, precious hold; she relaxed into him curious to see what would unfold.

* * *

Disoriented, Kusama Nowaki awoke from a strange dream.

Blinking in the dark, he came back to conscious with a strange familiarity that was so alien to him after being alone for so long. The was the strange weight that caused pins and needles in his arm. Lifting his head, he realised he was sleeping on the wrong side of the bed and he was not alone.

For the first time in eighteen years, Nowaki woke up the pleasure of a warm body curled around his own. Lying on her side with his arms draped over her warm form, Hiroko slumbered peacefully in her nakedness. A troubled heaviness rested in his chest as he studied his bed partner; no one since Hiro-san had shared this bed with him. Should he not feel guilty because the sacredness of Hiro-san's and his love had been lost from his deeds? He pushed aside the growing uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He would face his sins, harrowing guilt and self-loathing in the morning.

Brushing fingers through her soft thick brown hair, he compared the moment to so many he had shared with Hiro-san. How alike they were. How different they were. Her form was softer and curvier than Hiro-san's, but for a woman that was to be expected. She was not his Hiro-san but she stirred something inside his heart that he had thought lost with his lover. He closed his eyes and took a content breath of her hair into his heart.

She stirred in her sleep.

Leaning over to bestow a kiss on her lips, Nowaki found himself looking into a pair of mischievous brown eyes. Pulling him close, she kissed him deeply, before tumbling him back against the sheets.

He allowed his surrender and was swept away into the sweet tenderness of her embrace.

Countless times, they reached for each other in the darkness. Losing themselves into the exciting desire and carnal stirrings of the lust awakened between them. Sometimes, taking the form of slow, wonderous love-making and other times filling the desperate, quick carnal passion between them. The sun was caressing the horizon, as Nowaki lay back against his pillow holding the warm, drowsy body of his new lover against his naked form. He smiled as Hiroko snuffled softly in sleep and snuggled deeper into his hold. Kissing her forehead, Nowaki felt himself surrendered to the content embrace of sleep feeling complete and whole. His heart feeling warm, alive and full once more.

 _Maybe Miyagi had been right all along_ ; he thought to himself as sleep claimed him.

* * *

The rich amour of brewing coffee stirred his senses awake.

Turning beneath, the cool sheets, Nowaki opened his eyes to the new morning. The bed beside him was empty. The sheets ruffled and crumpled from the night's activities. The room was mostly dark still, save for a small gap in the blinds and a thin streak of light pouring in from his bedroom door standing ajar. The smell of cooking wafted through from the living area. He frowned to himself, wondering what on earth Hiroko had managed to find to cook in his kitchen. Sniffing the air, he could identify the scents of rice as it stemmed, eggs frying and the earthy smell of soy sauce.

As his mind became fully conscious, he waited for the rush of feelings.

He lay in peaceful serenity for a moment, feeling only slightly puzzled by the absence of the typical rush of blinding bleakness that ravaged his soul each morning. Only he found a rare moment of respite. He felt calm acceptance instead; his fear that he would wake wretched by guilt had been unfounded it seemed.

There was a twinge of emotion that registered deep in his heart.

It was an odd sadness he had no name for yet. He was sad that Hiro-san was not the last person he had lovingly embraced in this world. He still felt the same deep entrenched feelings he had always possessed for his Hiro-san, but there was a lightness in his heart at the same time. Miyagi's lecture all those years ago made sense to him now. He would never love another like he would love Hiro-san. Hiro-san had a component in his heart that belonged solely to him. Maybe there was space for others to share his heart with his Hiro-san.

Last night had taught him; he could desire others. After so many long years, he had found someone who rekindled the flame of his desires. Right now, he would not dwell on the fact it was a woman; maybe the gender did not matter after all. The most important thing was he had felt something!

Rubbing a hand over his face, Nowaki wondered what the time was.

Turning over, he bolted up in surprised by the hour on the alarm clock.

In disbelief, he picked up his watch from the bedside the table. He felt his eyebrow quirk up as he read the hour of eleven in the morning. He never slept in so late; not since he had returned to living on his own after his breakdown all those years ago. Pulling on the oversized t-shirt and lounge pants he usually slept in, he padded into the hallway to investigate what mischief was afoot in his home. Crossing the corridor, he stopped to stand in the doorway of the open plan space of his living area.

He smiled at the sight that greeted him from the doorframe.

Standing with her back to him at the kitchen island, Hiroko hummed softly to herself as music played on her phone. A gentle, easy-going golden oldie tune that was older than he was. She wore his shirt from the previous day, which fell to mid-thigh on her, with rolled up at the elbows as she cooked. A vision, he had often longed to greet him in the morning once upon a time.

He chuckled amusedly to himself as Hiroko started shuffling and bopping along to another cheesy eighties hit. She had no idea he was stood there watching her wiggle her shoulders, waving the spatula air as she danced and mouthed along to the lyrics of the song. He stood entranced as he relished the moment.

"Oh, girls wanna have fun… wanna have fun… Oh, Bloody hell!" She cried out when she saw him out the corner of her eye.

"Morning," he smiled suddenly feeling akin to a shy, awkward teenager again.

"Morning," she whispered warmly. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Aren't I supposed to say that to you?" He asked amused.

"I don't know," Hiroko replied biting her lip. "I haven't done this before either."

They stood in the kitchen staring at each other like awkward teenagers. Laughter echoed through the kitchen as they both laughed together at the awkwardness. Relief coursed its way through his entire body as he watched Hiroko laugh with pure joy. Her smile was like the radiance of sunshine; he found himself thinking as he watched her. She made him feel years younger by just being in her presence. She was a magical balm for his deep wounds and battered heart.

"How is your body feeling?" He asked with a small spasm of guilt and profound pleasure.

"I feel wonderful," she whispered tenderly before a rosy hue crept across her cheeks. "I mean my body feels fine. Thank you for enquiring."

With one look, she set his blood racing again.

Reaching forward, he clicked off the gas under the frying pan.

Hiroko looked up at him with a quizzical look of confusion. Gently, he took the spatula from her hand and set it aside on sideboard beside the hob. His other hand stroked her cheek as leaned in to steal a brief kiss. He should have known that one kiss would have never been enough after last night. The kiss quickly became something more. Ending in him lifting Hiroko to sit upon the counter. Pulling back, he looked at her sparkling sorrel eyes that were inflamed ardor. Nowaki pressed forward to stand between her thighs and returned to kiss her deeply. How often, he had dreamed once of doing this in the past with his Hiro-san. His lover would never have indulged his yearnings like this but this woman. This Komori Hiroko was sweet and undamaged by the world. She had not turned hard yet like his Hiro-san had when he met him. He kissed her in gentle exploration. Hiroko returned his kiss with growing passion and confidence as her fingers slipped into his raven hair causing him to groan happily.

A stray thought passed through his mind, he would happily greet the world in this way every day in the future. Drawing back from their embrace for a moment, he stood in wonder of this incredible soul that had pulled him out the dark abyss prison of his grief and guilt into the refreshing light of a brilliant new day. As he continued onto ravish her for the fifth time, somewhere deep in the reaches of his heart, Nowaki wished this magical morning would never end.

(To be continued)


End file.
